Kids I once knew (OUTDATED VERSION)
by TheBlaBla245
Summary: "If I'm killed, I will finally get to see my brother again. But if I do the impossible, if I win, the 72nd annual Hunger Games will have two victors, two brothers who went into the arena as one."
1. Chapter 1

AUTHOR'S NOTE

So the first like 3-4 chapters are a little rushed. Sorry about that. After the story is complete I will probably come back and redo the rushed chapters. I was just worried about readers losing interest since most of the stories do plunge into action pretty fast (Least the ones I have read). If there is any other way to improve the chapters let me know in a review or PM cause that is the main reason I'm doing this is to improve writing skills. ^,^

It's that feeling you get. The one that you know it is going to be a bad day before it even begins before you even open your eyes. A pit in your stomach that never goes away. You just want to sleep all day, just let it pass and refuse to be involved in it. But I can't, today is Reaping day.

The sun pours in through the clean windows and ragged curtains that do little to keep the room dark. It's nice, though, it slightly warms my skin since the fire went out late last night. The smoke of the charred logs still fills the air.

I push myself up, stretching my back and arms as I emerge from underneath the darkened blankets. Far too old and worn out to provide any kind of warmth. I slip on a white shirt, baggy dark khakis, and boots. The people of average or high wealth wear more form fitted clothes, but the people of lower areas are unable to afford such cloth. We were once high wealth. My father knew how to make Morpling, a pain killer drug that a lot of District 6's population take, especially the victors. But one day some people killed him, took all his Morphling. Without knowing how to make it our family plummeted into the slums of District 6.

I walk out into the kitchen area. Mom has already made a soup from carrots and mushrooms and has begun to carve chunks of wood into necklaces to sell. Her bone-thin fingers are delicate and quick, chipping away the wood. Despite also being a morphling addict, she is quite productive. Usually, the addicts lay in their houses, wasting away and hallucinating. I figured she didn't take enough of it at a time for that to be a problem for her, but she takes enough that the average symptoms have set in. Her eyes are sunken and wide, skin is an unhealthy yellowish colour, and a few of her teeth have fallen out from rotten.

I tried many times to get her off of the drug, but the morphling dealers are ruthless in District 6. They hide it in food or drinks to get you addicted so they can make money. Victors are no exception either, that is how two of them got addicted. Dealers had slipped them some morpholine and they eventually got addicted to it. Victors were a big target for dealers in this district, since they had an unlimited supply of money if you got one addicted it meant you were instantly rich.

I would try to get her off again but going through withdrawals takes a lot out of a person, a lot of people have died from the process. I don't think mom has what it takes to go off it again and survive, not without the help of an actual doctor but they cost so much money that it isn't an option.

My young sister, Clauria, walks in. Every morning she wakes up early to gather berries from a patch of forest not far from the house. She discovered the berry bushes about a year ago. She only goes to collect them early in the morning so she isn't followed by someone and her berries are found out and taken by another inhabitant of District 6.

"Morning," She smiles at me as she plops her bag of berries on the table.

"More than yesterday,"I say, looking at the bag of juicy fruit.

"I have been collecting food scraps and burying it by the plants, they seem to like it. Seems they double their berries every day."

"Well, I ain't complaining," I pluck a berry from the bag and slip it into my mouth, feeling the skin break and my mouth flood with the juice.

"Is Michelle up yet?" Clauria asks.

I give my head a nod in response and Clauria leaves to go wake her up. Clauria is only 13 but she acts like she is already an adult. Helps bring food to the table, sells small items for money, she even invited Tressa, one of the victors from District 6, over for supper a few months ago. Although Tressa declined, she gave my sister enough money for us to survive for a month. A meager amount for a victor, but for a family in need, it was a lifetime of working wages.

Michelle on the other hand was not as productive. She had gotten heavily into morphling a few years back, much worse than mom has. We barely see her, she lays in her room all day hallucinating, or else goes out at night to find more.

I watch as Clauria walks out of the shared bedroom. They say Clauria and I could pass for twins. Green eyes, tanned skin, dark hair, both of us fit and healthy despite being poor. We did have extra meals I guess. Clauria has turned into a master pickpocket, she often walks around the richer parts of District 6 and steals money and food, only enough to not be noticed. I on the other hand got extra meals from work, after befriending a peacekeeper who guards the hob, he has brought me small amounts of money but mostly meals whenever I go into work. Clauria and I were gonna share this with Michelle and our mom, but when we did that they took the money to buy morphling, or else traded the food for it. So we saw no point in us having to starve in order to feed their drug addiction.

The shell of Michelle lingers in the room like a ghost. Hallow, deathly, and quiet. Not even making a sound as she makes her way to the table. It was eerie even being around her, she looks as if she has been dead for a few weeks. Clauria had no issue with it, though, well she did in the sense of her sibling being addicted, but she can look past Michelle's looks.

Clauria grabs a bowl of the soup, she sets it down in front of Michelle.

"I'm going to go out," I say as I grab my bag from the hook by the door.

"Ok," Clauria says with a smile.

She knows what I'm doing.

Our house is a few kilometres from the edge of the District, but the District is huge. From the looks of the reapings and victory tours they show on TV each year, much bigger than any of the other 11 districts. Easily housing around 1 million people. There is three poor regions of District 6, one to the south, which we are in, one to the west, and then one that is between the two. The inner district is full of tall buildings and houses made of steel and glass that was deemed unusable in factories. The district is so large that we have a train system that allows people to move around the district, if we had to walk it would take the day just to get to the square.

The train today is barely filled, though. Most of the shops and factories are closed today for the Reaping, most people want to spend the day at home with their family. Today, 2 people will be taken for the Hunger Games. Their names plucked from a bowl on a stage. I was the one at the most risk in my family. Clauria has never taken out tesserae, you can get a year supply of grain and oil for 1 person in exchange for placing your name in a extra time, so her name is only in the draw twice. Michelle has 13, being 18 so her name is in 7 times plus the 6 tesserae she has taken over her years. Mine however is written on 21. 21 pieces of paper with the name Remus Kirkwood written on them. It wasn't as much as some other people, I have heard of people who have over 100 entries due to how much tesserae they take. But in my mind, 21 is a lot.

The train screeches to a stop at one of the stations. A rundown deck that connects the ground to the train. Beside it, a massive dome-like building that is used to build the bases of armoured vehicles for the Capitol. It made me sick how I was helping build the Capitol's army in the event of another uprising, cause I know if there ever was another rebellion I'd be right on the front lines.

I step out and stand close to the deserted factory, one of many closed for today. The gust of wind blowing up dust and providing some kind of sound.

The door opening breaks that silence, though, the signal. Once I enter the factory I am grabbed from behind, slammed up against the wall.

"What are you doing here?" The voice of a Peacekeeper emits from behind me.

He spins me around. His full body suit is sparkling clean, pure white except for the helmet which sports a black cover over the face. It made them look like aliens, unable to see their faces, just a hard white exterior.

I grab his helmet and pull it up over his face. His light, golden brown hair remains spiky despite the helmet, the hair branching down onto his jaw line in a clean stubble, and his blue eyes are mesmerizing. His face was fuller from not ever missing a meal, though he said he needs to cut back due to getting a husky body type which is not in fashion back at the Capitol. Markos smiles and plops a kiss on my lips.

"I've missed you," He says.

It was dangerous dating a peacekeeper. The consequences were severe since peacekeepers are forbidden to have any kind of relationship with people from the districts. But we were always friendly to one another, then one day when I was beaten by a group of addicts who thought I had morphling on me, he helped me. Just continued to grow from there.

We remained careful about it. Always meeting alone, acting normal around people, not mentioning it to anyone. Clauria did find out a couple of months back. Markos had come to the back of our house to give us candy he had gotten from the Capitol and Clauria seen us. She swore never to tell anyone, though. She still waits for her time to meet him.

We sit in the break room, specificity for peacekeepers. A nice open room that is well lit and clean.

He has a few food items he brought from the Capitol or else from the peacekeeper quarters, a building meant for peacekeepers to live at well in districts. He gives me large chicken slices with a creamy spinach mixture in the middle alone with a pile of peas and carrots with a transparent sauce over top, and a side dish that is made up of soft bread chunks, onions, cheese, and green vegetables and herbs.

I, on the other hand, have given him a good'ol District 6 breakfast. A bowl of soup my mom made from mushrooms and carrots with a chunk of bread that was made from the tesserae grain and nuts with mashed berries smeared along the top.

I can see the hesitation on his face, people from the Capitol being used to flavour filled meals. But the few times I have brought him food he has had trouble with it. Except for a small dessert, we call Hulick, a mini cake made with honey, thin layers of bread, nuts, cinnamon, and sometimes berries. He couldn't get enough of it and has even given me money to get the ingredients to make more on some occasions.

I begin to scarf down the food he has brought me. The chicken with spinach mixture is juicy and packed with flavour well the weird bread mixture I was hesitant to try tastes like creamy chives. A good break from the normal, bland food that I am used to consuming.

Markos, on the other hand, is having troubles getting past the first bite of the soup.

"You eat this stuff?" He says in shock.

"Not all of us have the luxury of eating like the Capitol," I give a good-hearted grin.

I remember when he first saw where I lived, how I lived, what I ate. It was a culture shock to him. He could hardly put it into words how surprised he was. He always said that he will take me to the Capitol, but we both know that won't ever happen.

"But how can you eat this everyday?" His Capitol accent making his struggles even more entertaining.

"It's what I'm used to."

I grab one of the chicken chunks and give it to him, along with some of the bread mixture.

"Nope," He pushes the offer back towards me, "I'm going to finish this."

"Oh, a true victor," I smile.

Just from those words, his expression goes dark. He's worried. I'm at risk of being chosen as tribute for the Hunger Games. A yearly event where the twelve districts of Panem send one boy and one girl to the Capitol to fight to the death on live television. It means a lot that he is worried.

"Hey, it's ok. I'm not going to be picked," I say.

"What if you are."

"But I won't be."

"But if you are."

I have never really placed any thought to what would happen if I was picked. I should. Two years ago my younger brother was chosen for the games at the age of 12. I have never felt so helpless as when I was standing there, watching as he got called and whisked away to the Capitol only to be killed 10 days later.

"If I am then I will win and guess what. If I win I get to go to the Capitol whenever I want and then you can show me around," I tell him.

He nods at this response, tying to conceal his worry.

We finish are food and then he pulls out oddly shaped buns topped with a light sugar, berries, and some kind of custard. We finish that, talk for a bit, by then it is noon. I say my goodbyes, give him a hug, ad then leave to home.

Michelle has already gotten ready for the Reaping. A worn out black dress with her blonde hair done up in a ponytail. Mom also wears a black dress that has seen better days, she wears stockings over her legs and a nice black coat.

It became the tradition for everyone to wear black to the Reaping. To express our sorrow and pain during the reaping as well as for the two poor souls who get picked.

I use a small bucket of water to wash my arms, face, and hair. I see some of dads old clothes. A tight black pair of pants with black shoes, black shirt and gray checkered shirt with a tie. Something only the wealthy wear. It is a bit snug around the arms and shoulders since I have broad shoulders and bigger arms than he did. I use a honey mixture mom makes to style my hair to look presentable.

"He would be proud," mom says as she looks at me.

She wraps the tie around my neck, her boney fingers moving so quickly it is hard to keep track of them. Within seconds the tie is tied and fastened around my neck.

There is a moment of silence before she suddenly wraps her arms around me, squeezing me tightly. I can only imagine how hard it is for her. Already one of her kids has been taken due to these games and now she has to worry about three more. I just had to worry about myself, but she worries for all of us.

I wrap my arms around her and give her a hug.

"We should go now, don't want to miss the train." She says.

Mom leaves a loaf of bread dough by the fire so that it can cook well we are gone. Something to bring to the massive potluck that the District holds after each reaping as celebration of your child not being chosen for the Hunger Games. I always loved it, all the food, the music, dancing.

We make our way to the train station which already hosts a crowd of parents and children, all nervous for the reaping which was only an hour away. I myself could feel it harder and harder to breath with my body tingling with nerves. Even after so many years of going through the Reaping it never got easier. If anything it progressively got worse, since a majority of the tributes chosen are 16 or 17.

We stand in the train, only the hushed cries or whispered "I love you" fill the train. Not it's usual bounty of conversation that takes place. We head towards the hob in charge of hovercrafts. Since the population of District 6 outgrew the square and the kids couldn't all fit, so it got moved to the hovercraft hob since it was a wide open area with more than enough room for all the kids. The adults who don't have kids go to the square, though, a large screen has been set up there where they can watch the Reaping live.

The hob has a large stage set up near the entrance of it with bright banners strung up around the hob. Large pillars have been placed up around the building so that film crews can be perched up on them, capturing every moment of the Reaping. There is two roped off sections in front of the stage, one for the males and one for the females.

I sign in, give Clauria and Michelle one last hug, then walk to the males section, filing in around the middle where the other 16-year-olds stand. I watch as Clauria and Michelle find their spots. After that, it is a waiting game. More and more kids walk into the roped sections as the parents stand around them. Their eyes fixated on their child, praying for them to be spared another year. Wealthy and poor alike clinging to each other, offering support to one another.

Up on the stage is the mayor, along with Volumnia Ballantynn, and the five victors of District 6.

The mayor steps up to the podium once the clock strikes Two. He is a skinny older man who always wears a hat. He talks about before the Dark Days. How The world was devastated by droughts, floods, fires, and disease. How that wars waged for the little supplies that remained and destroyed everything. But then Panem rose from the ashes. He talks about the uprising that took place so many years ago, how District 13 was destroyed and the Treaty of Treason was signed to ensure that nothing like that would happen again. How every year the districts would offer in tribute, one young male, and female to be given to the Capitol. There they would fight to the death on live television.

As sick as it was, it was genius. Have the districts kill each other and make everyone watch. Who would want to align themselves with a district that killed so many of their children? And if no one wants to align then no rebellion is started. But people like me, my sisters, and my brother were the casualties of this plan. Twenty-three every year.

He then goes through the list of victors District 6 has, five of them, all of whom are still alive. The victors stand and give a quick wave or bow to the crowds as we clap. Then it is time for the two to be picked.

Volumnia walks with stride to the podium. Her long blue hair has been style upwards and outwards, looking like a massive mountain on her head. A long ruffled dress makes her look like she is wearing a rose upside down on herself. She also sports large wooden armbands. Though I don't care for any of the escorts, Volumnia is someone I am proud to have. I have seen the other escorts on TV, they are all giddy idiots. Volumnia looks like a goddess of war, it gave our district a little more attention.

"Welcome," She stares at the crowds, "To the 72nd Annual Hunger Games."

I can feel my palms fill with cool sweat, my breathing more shaky as I try to control it to be more calm. I know that if I am chosen I need to show that I am strong and calm. The kids who break down or try to run away are usually targeted in the games, and if they make it far no one wants to sponsor them since they are deemed as a loser from the start.

"Two of you will have the privilege of representing District 6 in the Hunger Games," Volumnia continues, "First up, the ladies."

I glance over at Clauria and Michelle who stand, their eyes staring at the stage. Waiting to see what name is read out.

Volumnia digs into the massive bowl of names, some even spilling over the top and onto the floor from how overly filled it is. She snatches one deep within the bowl and holds it up for all to see as she walks to the stage.

"Petro Linvsgitty," Volumnia calls out.

I let out a sigh of relief. Clauria is safe another year and Michelle has survived, she was 18 and this was her last eligible year to be picked. I glance over at Michelle who looks dazed, the other 18-year-olds around her celebrate for surviving and now being free from the threat of the games.

I see Petro walk down the isle towards the stage. Her red hair cascades down onto her pale shoulders. She is younger, maybe 14 or 15. But I remember her in the hospital once, her parents both being doctors.

She walks onto the stage, obviously holding back her tears.

"And now for the boys," Volumnia says.

I can feel my whole body tense up as I watch. See her fingers grab the first slip of paper that they come in contact with. Again holding the paper up for all to see as she walks back to the podium.

All the people around me seem to take a collective breath as we wait anxiously for the reveal of what poor male is going to be called up to participate.

Volumnia opens the slip of paper and takes a breath in before reading the name on the paper.

"Remus Kirkwood," She calls out.

It's me...She calls out my name.


	2. Taken

I feel like someone punched me in the chest, knocking all the air from my lungs. I am unable to breathe in or out, so I just stand there wide eyed. Disconnected from the world around me. How? How is my name the one that is picked? Twenty-one times my name was in that bowl, only twenty-one. There are people whose names are in there a hundred times, so how am I the one to be chosen?

I hear the cries from mom a few feet away. Screaming for them not to take me, to leave me alone. I manage to turn my head to see her being held back by two peacekeepers as she cries hysterically, her thin frame doing little to push through the peacekeepers grasps.

I take a shaky breath before turning to make my way out of the cluster of kids All of whom clear the way, avoiding me like I am a walking plague, if they get near me they might catch the disease. I can feel everyone's gaze as I make my way into the isle between the two roped off areas.

I always thought it would be easy to look strong, emotionless, even possibly excited for the games if I am chosen, in an attempt to look like a favourable option to win the games and possibly win over a few sponsors. But the tasks is much harder now that me being chosen is a reality. It is difficult to walk let alone control my emotion. It only gets worse when Clauria makes her way into view.

"Remus!" She screams. Another peacekeeper grabs her, pulling her away from me. Her eyes are red with tears, she is having just as much trouble coming to reality with this.

The only thing I can do is walk past her. I give as good of a smile as I can, in some attempt to keep her calm, but it has little effect. I mount the stage and am guided to the middle by Volumnia.

Clauria is now screaming. She fights to get to the stage, to get to me, but the peacekeeper lifts her like she is nothing, throws her over his shoulder, and makes his way away from the stage.

Petro and I are left standing on the stage, staring in disbelief, the entire country looking back at us. I feel the pit in the back of my throat like I have swallowed a rock and it is trying to get back up. My heart beats with such intensity that it might burst from my chest. My breath is so shaky that it is hard to control it and hold back to the tears.

"Here are the tributes from District 6!" Volumnia smiles as she backs up.

It is customary to shake the other tributes hand. To wish each other good luck. In all honesty, I meant it. If I was not the one coming back then I hope it is Petro. Then at least District 6 would be showered with food and gifts for a year and my family would go to sleep with full bellies for 12 months.

But when I grasp Petro's hand I have little hope for her survival. They are smooth and delicate, the complete opposite to my rough, over-worked hands. Sh has never worked a day in her life, hasn't struggled, and has little to no strength. Her features are small and child like, except for her eyes which are large and brown in colour. Just from the look of her, I doubt she would win. Some victors have won just based off their wits, a girl who won by managing to evade the others until everyone starved to death, a guy who electrocuted six tributes at once, a guy from 3 a few years ago whom made traps all throughout the arena, killing 5 tributes without ever coming face to face with anyone. Maybe she could pull that off, but it's rare a tribute wins without actually fighting.

After we shake hands we are brought into the hob and taken to different areas.

I am placed in what was once an office area but has been temporary remolded just for the Reaping. A large couch sits by the wall with two plush chairs and a glass table. An oversized red rug has been placed over the normally cold and hard concrete flooring. This is where I will say my final goodbyes, where I will hug my friends and family one last time before being taken to the Capitol.

My family is the first to enter. Clauria grabs me and pulls me into a tight hug, her face still wet with tears. Mom is still crying as well. Her usual yellow skin has turned a bright red along with her eyes.

"My baby boy," She manages to choke out before grabbing me, burying her face into my chest and cries. Her nails dig into my back as she holds me tightly. I don't want her to let go, I don't want to go. I want to stay here, in District 6, with my family. But it is too late, there is no way I can stay now. Maybe when my name was called I could have slipped into the crowds, evaded the peacekeepers, made a run for it. District 6 is massive, it would take them a long time to search the entire district. But now it is too late. I hold mom in my arms.

We sit on the couch for a few minutes. Mom sits beside me, combing her fingers through my hair well Clauria sits on my lap, keeping her constricted grip on me. Michelle sits on the other side of me but shows little affection. She has trouble even staying awake from the dose of morphling she likely took before coming here.

"You could win," Clauria mumbles.

"I know," I mumble back.

I did have some kind of a chance. The heavy lifting during work has built muscle onto my body. I was one of the stronger men in my neighbourhood from it. So if I was in a fist fight I might have a chance. But there are tributes who have trained their entire lives for this game, who have learned how to kill, how to break someone's neck, how to cut someone so that they would bleed to death in under a minute. Those are the people I would be up against. How am I going to fight someone like that? I would be dead before I even got a punch in. I know I need to try, but it didn't seem plausible that I would come out alive. So I give my family another hug, what I know will likely be my last hug from them, the last time I will see them, feel them, even smell them.

"I'm going to miss you so much."

"Markos said you promised him you will win," Clauria suddenly says, "He was the one who lifted me away from the stage. He said that you need to try, that you can win."

"I will," I say.

I completely forgot about Markos until now. He won't be able to come say goodbye. It's forbidden for peacekeepers to have any kind of interaction with civilians unless it is to punish them. This morning was the last time I will see him. I didn't even really say goodbye to him.

A peacekeeper comes to tell us the time is up. Michelle goes without a fight but Clauria and mom protest.

"Win! You can do this Remus! Come back home to us!" Mom yells as she is dragged out of the room.

Clauria just keeps her clasp on me as a peacekeeper tries to pry her off. I grab her pack, giving her one last hug before I untangle her arms from behind me and allow her to be pulled away.

"No!" Clauria screams as she is dragged from the room.

I give another smile.

"Goodbye," I say before the door shuts. It takes everything to avoid crying. I want to just collapse right now, cry, huddle up in a ball. But I can't and I don't. I just stand in silence, staring at the door. What else can I do?

A few friends from school come and visit next. They talk about how I can win, how they will see me again, how they will be watching me so I got to to my best not to embarrass District 6. But after a few minutes they are ushered out and replaced by a man, my boss. The guy who is in charge of the hob at which I work at. It is a awkward visit, mostly in silence sitting beside each other. Near the end he pats my knee.

"You got this," He says.

After that there is no one left. For awhile I am left in the big empty room waiting to be taken to the train station that will take me to the Capitol. I am taken to a car that drives to the train station. A longer drive than I expected. Mostly due to the massive amounts of people on the streets. Some of them clap and cheer, but only a few. Most of them toss petals of the wild rose onto the road or as the car passes by. A tradition at funerals in District 6. If I wasn't being taken to my death, I might think it is beautiful. Driving on a pile of wild rose petals well even more rain down from the air as we whiz past.

The station is crawling with film crews and people. We step out and can feel the cameras eye fixated on me. Reporters begin to recap what happened at the Reaping or else give information about Petro and I. We stand in the doorway of the train as camera crews take videos of us or else pictures. After they are satisfied we are taken into the train. That's when I feel it, the brush on my hand, something with weight being dropped into my palm. I stop on the step of the train and look to see a bracelet in my hand. But not any bracelet, Markos's. I have seen him wear it every time we have met, he never takes it off. I look back and see a peacekeeper standing at the doorway of the train. It's him.

"Markos." I say but the doors shut in front of me, blocking him from me. A sudden jerk almost knocks me off my feet and the train starts moving. Speeding away from my family, from Markos, from District 6. I am helpless to stop it. So I just stand in the doorway, looking through the small window as the train station shrinks and finally District 6 vanishes from view.


	3. Meeting the Mentors

The train I always took to work and around district 6 is nothing compared to the luxury of the tribute train. The deep blue velvet carpet only compliments the wood tables and plush chairs that decorate the room. The food seems unlimited as well. From my meals, with Markos, I knew the Capitol people ate well but I am taken back by the food that lays throughout the room. Volumnia tells us it's if we feel like snacking but the amount of food could easily keep my family fed for a month or two.

I grab a small cake that is topped with several types of fruits, only two of which I know, blueberries and raspberries. I take a bite and instantly my mouth bursts with flavour. The soft sweetness of the cake mixed with the tart flavour of an odd green fruit and the crunch of its small poppy sized seeds. I can't help but quickly finish off the rest of the small pastry.

Petro, on the other hand, seems used to such luxuries. Both of her parents are doctors so she is probably used to an abundance of nice food and luxurious soft furniture. She casually plops down on one of the chairs, crosses her legs, and looks out the window at the blurred trees that speed by.

I lean against the counter of one of the many tables within the room and grab another pastry. A chocolate ball topped with white chocolate flakes and filled with a creamy cherry flavoured liquid.

"Who do you think will be our mentors?" I say.

Every year 2 of the previous victors are chosen to mentor the tributes. They are in charge of preparing the tributes for the games, managing the tributes appearance, and collecting sponsorships for when we are in the games. Having a good mentor is the difference between life and death once you are in the games.

Petro only nudges her shoulders upwards in response.

"Not a talker?" I ask.

"No point," she replies.

"Well, it helps us get to know each other."

"Won't help us kill each other," She says.

I am surprised with the answer. A girl who is 14 years of age is already distancing herself so she can have a better chance in the game. She is already preparing for it, playing it. A girl who just a few minutes ago I thought would have no chance at winning. But that is when it hits me, her family is doctors. She knows the human anatomy, knows where major arteries are, where to stab someone to get a quick kill. She is used to seeing blood and death. How could I be so oblivious to her skill set? I have been fearing people who know how to kill, who can kill, and I have someone like that right in front of me. I can't underestimate people in this game. Just last year a girl named Johanna Mason won the games by playing weak and everyone underestimated her and left her to just die off on her own, but she didn't. She waited till the final 7 and then showed she had the skill to kill. She butchered the career pack and then hunted down the last of the other tributes and killed without mercy. For all I know that could be Petro's plan, to let her innocent petite look make her seem underestimated, then come out to be a skilled killer. She is already playing this game and I am just joining.

I sit on the plush chair beside her, the second I do the door opens. Caliper and Fascia, two previous victors, walk into the room. I remember both of their games. I was too young to watch them live, but I have seen reruns of them on TV before other games or else at school when we had to learn about our previous victors.

Fascia was the winner of the 49th games. She won her games by killing the career pack on the first night well they slept. Then she hid in the cornucopia and waited for other tributes to come to her when they would scavenge the bounty of supplies within the golden horn she would leap out and kill them before they had time to react. She was the most fierce victor in our district, but she got tricked into doing morphling. Her once muscular frame is now sagging, her skin cracked and mixes of white and yellow. Though she is just 40 she looks more in her 60's.

Caliper is also affected by the morphling, though not as much as Fascia. His skin discoloured, eyes sunken, but he still keeps his fit body. I notice fresh bandages on his forearm, I have seen that too many times. People often scratch their arms or legs constantly well they are going through withdrawals, often scratching so much that their skin gets broken and they literally rip their arms open. Many addicts have died this way, bleeding out due to self-inflicted wounds. But there are no reasons for Caliper to be going through withdrawals. He has more than enough money to buy a constant supply of the drug, and dealers would line up for the chance to have a victor as a client.

I remember the many times when my mom would go off the drug. Withdrawals are a tough and frightening thing to see, let alone go through. Mom would be in bed, sweating so much I would have to wipe it away with a cloth every few minutes. She screamed and would clench my arm with such intensity that I have small half-inch long scars along my forearms from her digging her fingernails into my arm. But the thing that was the hardest thing to deal with was the self-wounding. I'd stay up all night watching her to make sure she wouldn't do it and if she tried I did my best to stop her.

I sent Clauria for bandages when the withdrawals began. We would trade soap that Clauria would sometimes make for the roll of bandages so we had them handy if mom did tear her arms open. She always did. Bleeding everywhere, her flesh exposed, but she continued to scratch even though her skin was long gone. Clauria would have to help me hold her down and bandage the wound up so she wouldn't bleed out. The first few times Clauria cried, seeing her mom like that, but after awhile she got used to it, we both did. I'd call for her and she would rush in with the bandages, I'd hold mom down well Clauria quickly wrapped up her arm.

We'd take turns watching her after that, but I always took the first watch. It was so that Clauria wouldn't have to sit in the room with her mother's blood all over her arms and clothes. I always did my best not to look at it, but I could feel it drying on my skin, tightening it. The smell of it also filled my nose. There was nothing more I wanted to do then to wash it all off, but if I turned away for a second mom would have gone back to tearing into her arm.

The two sit in the chairs across from us. For a moment it is silent as they observe us, occasionally leaning over to feel our arms or legs, checking our inner arms for any signs of morphling use, trying their best to determine how much of a chance we have in the arena.

"What are you good at?" Fascia asks, her voice heavy and crackles.

"I'm strong, I worked in the vehicle hob so I had to lift heavy tires and steel," I answer.

"What about weapons?" Fascia is almost inaudible.

"Never touched one before." I haven't. We had an axe that I would use to chop would for the fireplace and a knife to cut meat and other foods but that would hardly count as weapon experience. But this reply seems to lose the hopes of the two victors before me. Their eyes turn to Petro as if hoping that she has more promise then myself.

Petro doesn't respond, she gives a sigh. "I don't wish to answer in front of him."

"So trained separately?" Fascia asks, to which Petro nods her head.

Fascia stands up, taking Petro's arm. "I'll take her," Fascia says as she walks out of the room.

I feel like I had just been punched. Fascia and Tressa are two of the most respected and desirable victors in our district and Fascia just passed me up for a 14-year-old. Walked past me like I was nothing. And by the looks of Caliper, he is not to eager to have me as the person he is in charge of either.

"You're fit, you got muscle," Caliper says. "But that won't be enough for you to win. You need to get better at a weapon. In training, you need to practice as much as you can."

"Why was Petro the better choice?" I ask.

"Excuse me," Caliper responds.

"You and Fascia seemed to want to train her, that she was the best chance at winning."

Caliper lets out a sigh as he scratches his head. "She is thinking about the game. You just told her your strengths and weaknesses. You aren't thinking too much."

He was right. I just blurted out important information in front of competition without even hesitating.

Caliper and I talk for a little bit longer before he sends me to my chambers. A large open room with a massive bed, big enough to fit at least 4 people. There is a small seating area as well and a weird station where I can touch a screen and order anything from food to massages. The bathroom is even fancier than anything I ever saw back in District 6. A large shower that has warm and cold running water, something we didn't have back at our house. There is a machine that blow dries your body within seconds and the mirror has a built-in television that shows what is being broadcasted in the Capitol.

I find the closet and change out of my black attire, being careful to fold it up and set it nicely on a chair so that it doesn't get ruined. I feel the fabric of the clothes presented before me. Soft, new, and expensive. They seem to have both options of Capitol wear but also clothes that seem to represent my district, what the wealthy normally wear. I place on a white shirt with a gray cardigan, the baggy kind that I always saw young 20-year-olds wear in the richer parts of the district. The cardigan is longer on the back and brushes against the tight black pants. Finally, I slide a wool toque onto my head. The wealthy usually wear hats, flat caps, sun hats, ascot caps, and toques are the more popular choices. All of which are presented before me. I have always wanted a toque though and love the feeling of the material against my head.

Supper is an eight-course meal. Frothy soups, lamb, cakes, salads, a constant supply. Some of which I have tried when Markos brought some to the district, but a lot of it brand new to me. I can't help but stuff mouthful after mouthful into me. After I am done I can hardly hold another bite. Petro, even though never having missed a meal, seems to indulge herself a little too much on the dessert which is a tall cake with a chocolate crumb bottom.

After, Volmnia whisks us into the den where there is a massive television set up for us to watch the recap of the Reapings. I make sure to really study each person that is chosen, to make up for my earlier negligence for the game. Petro and Fascia sit on one side of the room, seeming to whisper to one another on strategies and who is tough and who is weak. Caliper does little to aid me in the breakdown of the Reaping.

I watch a tall, muscular woman leap out to volunteer in District 1, given her name as Amethyst. District 1 tributes always seeming to have rather odd names. District 2 gives very strong fit tributes as well.

I watch our own Reaping. Petro being called, her collective walk to the stage. I didn't see it before but from the corner of the screen, you can see her family burst into tears. Then it is me. How I hesitate, the screams of my mom which even now sends chills down my spine, my slow but steady walk to the stage where Clauria screams and tries to get to me, only for a peacekeeper, whom I now know was Markos, stop her and carry her away. Then we shake hands and brought into the hob. It gives a weird feeling seeing it on the television, an almost slap in the face that checks me back into reality. This is real, I'm really going into the Hunger Games.

The Reapings continue with a girl from 7 who almost smiles at being chosen for the games. Another from District 8 who looks confused at being chosen but then excited. A 12-year-old from District 9, which is always hard to watch, he mounts the stage with tears in his eyes and no one volunteers for his spot. Then two from District 12 who seem shocked and confused from being chosen. The anthem plays and the screen goes dark.

"Welp time for bed," Volumnia claps her hands together as she stands up, "Tomorrow you two will be in the Capitol and I want you both to look your best." She walks away, her long dress dragging against the velvet carpet.

It isn't hard to fall asleep, rather quite easy. The bed is the softest thing I have ever touched. And the blankets are thick and provide instant warmth, unlike the old raggedy blanket back home which did little to keep you heated during the long cool nights back in District 6. I close my eyes, hug a pillow, and slowly drift off.


	4. Arrival

I'm already awake when one of the Capitol servants knocks on my door, saying that breakfast is ready. They consider it an honour to serve the tributes of the Hunger Games, an entire army of them at my disposal. To cook, clean, make clothes, anything I could want there is someone on this train that will get it. I figure it is the least they can do since before the week is over I will be in the arena and fighting to the death for their entertainment.

I get changed in a simple shirt and cargo pants before heading out for breakfast. Caliper and Fascia are at the table. Fascia looks dazed, probably having taken a recent shot of morphling. Caliper looks healthier though, his eyes more alive. I know he is not taking the drug anymore, but why? I join them and see the large amount of food in front of me. Fruit, bread, jam, ham, eggs, and 2 large pitchers of orange juice and apple juice. I fill up my plate and dig in.

Petro joins soon after and she continues to keep her distance from me. Ignoring the chair that is right beside me and, instead, takes the one further down. Volumnia only grabs a piece of bread and cup of coffee.

"Eat any less and you will disappear," I joke with her. She only gives a smile that I know hides a snide remark she would usually make. I don't get how they could eat so little given that they have such large portions of food. Even clean water is a luxury back home that requires at least an hour of work but here it is endless.

"So today is the Tribute Parade. This is your first chance to win over sponsors," Caliper says, "So don't choke up."

The Tribute Parade is basically the first real event of the Hunger Games. The tributes from all the districts are dressed in costumes and are shown off to the citizens of the Capitol and live TV. It is usually short, only lasting 20 or 30 minutes, but it gives the people from the Capitol their first look at the tributes in person.

It doesn't take me long to finish breakfast. After my 2nd plate of food, I am unable to eat anymore. But the orange juice is so good and fresh that when Caliper calls for me to follow him I take another glass of the juice. Leaving Fascia and Petro to discuss their game strategies well Caliper and I discuss ours.

He takes me to the end of the train, a rather beautiful room that I haven't even seen yet. It is long and the entire back end is pure glass, allowing a 180-degree viewing of the scenery that speeds away. A large couch curves around the glass and a wooden table sits within reach of the couch. Boutiques of freshly cut flowers decorate the rest of the room which has chairs and other small tables throughout it. Caliper sits on the curved couch and I sit across from him.

"You need to get your head in the game," He says.

"I know," I say back.

"I'm serious. That girl is already coming up with a hundred different ways to kill and you haven't even begun to think of what you are going to do." Caliper continues, "I heard Fascia and Petro talking and she is good. She has medical training, she is smart, she isn't afraid to kill."

I feel disappointed in myself. Even though I realized she was already playing this game, that I needed to get my act together and start finding ways to better my odds in the arena but I am still yet to do it. Either eating the food or else curled up on the bed staring blankly at the wall. Clauria, Michelle, mom, Markos, all of them are expecting me to come back, to win this, and I have already started to let them down.

"Do you have any skills that can help you in the arena?" Caliper asks.

"I'm quiet," I answer. It's true, though, months of sneaking around District 6 to visit Markos has gotten me good at being silent.

"Anything better?"

"I can make fires easily, I can climb, I'm smart," I tell him.

"How smart?"

"I got high enough grades in school to be considered for Router." Router's in our district are responsible for planning and mapping out the future routes of train tracks or roads. It required a lot of knowledge about geography and math. Routers were also in charge of other details, logistics, plans of the trains or cars, coordinating. Since the Capitol isn't building too many tracks or roads outside the city, there is only a very limited amount of spots for a Router, but it is highly desirable due to its high pay. Even though I am only 16 I was being considered to go to a special school to train for a Router since my grades were some of the highest the school seen.

"That's good," Caliper says, "We can work on that. But tonight you need to come off as very likable. The Capitol has come to see you, you need to make it look like you have come all this way to see them. Exaggerate your smile, your wave, do stuff that makes them feel like they are the celebrity."

I didn't expect any advice from someone who regularly uses morphling but Caliper is proving that he might not be too bad of a mentor after all. It gives me hope. If he can continue to help me out and then get sponsors for when I am in the games then I have a real shot at this, I could possibly win this whole thing and go back home to my family.

"Green tea baths with carrots help," I glance down at his bandaged forearms, "they pull out the toxins and help the withdrawals of morphling."

He gives a smile, exposing his yellowish teeth. "I thought no one would know it was withdrawals."

"Why are you going through this. I am glad for you that you are getting off it...But why now? I kinda need you to be in your right mind so you going through this process has me nervous." I say.

"It's to help," He replies, "If I am off the morphling I can do better at keeping you alive." He takes a deep breath, releasing it in a sigh. "I'm just tired of seeing kids I try to help get killed."

"Thanks," I say before my attention is diverted.

The entire train goes dark, only the dim lights on the ceiling of the room provide any sort of light. It goes on for a few seconds before sunlight bursts into the room and my breath is taken from me. Through the glass I see the Capitol. Massive buildings cover the area, taller than any building or tree I saw back at District 6. The snow-capped mountains lay around the city, providing a beautiful backdrop to the skyscrapers and towers that make up the Capitol. Buildings made entirely of glass or else in odd shapes, one taking the form of a crescent moon, the yellow of the building seem so bright and pigmented that it almost looks like a dream.

Before I can continue my gaze on the city it goes back to black. This time it is only for a second before light floods in again and the roars of the crowd fill my ears. I look through the glass and see we are in a massive train station. The ceiling is made of glass well everything inside the station is pure white. Holograms and screens present advertisements or else Hunger Game promos. One even shows Petro and I's faces on it with the large words "Arriving" beneath them.

The people are much more colourful in person. The crowd looks like a sea of bright coloured clothes. Their hairs styled in massive outrageous dos, their clothes are screaming with colour, and their faces, even the males, have makeup plastered on every inch. The people clap and cheer as their eyes catch me in the back of the train, only the glass separating myself from the people. Some of the closer ones even press their hands up against the glass as if to try and touch me. I can't help but smile as I feel an overwhelming sense of excitement. I press my hands on the glass but then resort to waving to the people. I know Clauria would love this moment. She was always an attention hog, would do anything for the eye to be on her. But it is hard not to want the attention of these people. Even though they are waiting to watch my death they have an odd way of making you feel welcomed.

"Welcome to the Capitol," Caliper mutters.


	5. Tribute Parade

I lay on an uncomfortable steel table with hundreds of tiny little holes to allow the water and soaps to seep through and into the drain further down. I have been in the Remake Centre for over an hour now, maybe more, there are no clocks in here to determine the time and I don't feel like constantly asking someone what time it is. Instead, I sit as still as I can as my prep team works diligently to perfect me for my stylist. A person who will make me clothes and manage my image up until I enter the arena.

Tauria does a passive cringe as she throws out another clump of hair. Her deep purple lipstick and bright pink cheeks only exaggerate her look. In District 6, body hair is not a big issue. Men and women alike will sport hair throughout their bodies. But in the Capitol, it is forbidden. Men only being able to have small amounts of hair under their pits, arms, and if it looks good than their face. But from the sounds of the ripping and slight gasps from the female tribute beside me, only separated by a thing curtain, females likely can't have hair anywhere on their body except for ontop of their heads.

Fava, a woman with massive pink hair and monstrously long nails that have been painted a sparkling gold colour, places on a clear liquid around where facial hair would grow. The liquid burns my skin and I want to immediately wipe it off but resist the urge. I probably couldn't if I wanted to though. Pumice, the last member of my prep team, holds my hand and carefully molds my nails into perfect shape. She keeps a death grip on my hand and From the few times I have winced from the pain of one of the products they apply to my skin I know her grip won't budge. Pumice looks the most altered out of the three. Her cheekbones have been made so that they are the most elevated part of her face, the tallest part ending in a tip like a triangle. Dozens of tiny diamonds lay embedded in her akin around the edge of her eyes, extending down into her hairline. Her eyes being changed to a bright green colour, even brighter than my own. Though I can't help but think how odd and weird she looks I also see a beauty, the sparkling of the diamond on her skin, the intensity of her eyes.

The three chatter non-stop. Talking about other people, the scandals in their life. A woman who is now single, another who has 10 lovers, a man who tried to make a fashion trend that incorporated partial nudity which fell on its face. Their conversations seem so pointless. Is this what their lives are about? Who wore what, who dates who, who went where. Is Markos like this when he returns to the Capitol? It's hard to even imagine Markos lives here. When I saw him he looks so normal, no alterations except for a few tattoos along his back and calves. Half the time I forgot he was from the Capitol, only his accent gave him away. But what is he like here, in the Capitol? Does he dress as odd and colourful as these people? Talk about other peoples lives and gossip with other odd people? Does he bide his time with making new fashion trends or watching TV all day? Does he partake in these long and crazy beauty rituals that I am having to undergo now? It's weird to even think about, he just seems so normal. If he didn't have the Capitol accent I would be sure he was from District 6.

The trio covers me in a bright green foam that makes a sizzling sound when it touches my skin, though I feel nothing. After a few seconds, they spray water on my body, rubbing me with a bristled brush that moves in circular motion, making sure to get every inch of my skin. Then to finish it off they spread a pink lotion on my body that feels so creamy and provides a cooling calming affect to my skin. After that they clasp their hands together, looking at me with smiles on their faces, admiring their long hours of work.

"You are finished sweetheart!" Pumice smiles.

"Thanks?" I say hesitantly, not knowing if I should gush over their work. I guess it wouldn't hurt since they will help me get sponsors.

"Oh it was our pleasure," Tauria says.

"Always wonderful to help someone so in need," Fava follows. The three nodding in agreement.

"I don't know how you survived all these years looking like you did... How would anyone survive?" Tauria says.

"Oh I would so die," Fava replies.

I suddenly have the urge to not gush over them but instead practice my skills for the Hunger Games on them.

"Well, what are you doing just sitting around?" Pumice asks, "Place your robe on."

I do as they say and slide the soft plush robe onto my body, concealing it from view. They guide me down a hall into a room that has minimal furniture, just a few chairs, tables, mirrors.

"Your stylist will be here shortly," Fava says as she leaves the room with the other two.

I'm left alone in the room for only a few moments before it opens and in walks a humanoid creature, my stylist. She looks to be in her late 40's or 50's, her skin and neck dyed white with long black stripes curving into a variation of designs on her face. Her nose has been flattened and darkened near the end with the skin above her lip being altered into two large lumps with whiskers poking out. The dark coloured cloak she wears conceals her hair along with the rest of her body.

"Hello," She says in a soft voice, "I'm Tigris, your stylist."

My words are taken from me, how someone could change their looks so much to get this result is shocking to me. I just stare in surprise, unable to form any kind of sentence.

She moves with stealth and precision. Her toes touch the floor first as she slowly lowers the rest of her foot down, not making a single sound as she prowls around me. I feel like I am already in the games with a massive mutt waiting for me to make the first move. But I don't, I just stand their silently as she asks for me to remove my robe, to which I do. Her cat-like eyes dart from one part of my body to the other, sizing me up, evaluating me, wondering what she will do. Will she try and fashion the clothes to make me look strong, smart, innocent? She lets out a purring sound and her thin fingers motion for me to put my robe back on. I grab it, sliding it over my body and follow her into an attached room.

The room is massive, one side being complete glass that showcases the Capitol. We must be at least thirty levels up, giving us a prime view of the city. Light bits of rain splatter against the glass and fall down onto the streets of the Capitol. Even though they probably think it is a day ruined by water I can't help but see how beautiful it is. Rain meant hope, it meant clean drinkable water, so I always loved the site of rain. But what it does to the Capitol is jaw-dropping. The lights of buildings and streets shimmer from colourful lights but then bounce off of the small water droplets that cover everything, making it seem like the city itself is shining. It was the perfect look for the Capitol, a dark mysterious place that emitted beauty.

"Don't worry," Tigris hisses, "The rain will go soon."

I wonder if she is saying that to me or herself.

I follow her to a table set in the middle of the room, already food awaits us. Two simple set ups. On my side a bowl of yellowish thick soup and a plate that has long cooked pieces of a green vegetable that I have never seen before. Two fillets of glazed salmon lay ontop of it with tomatoes, potatoes, chives, and a small lemon wedge decorating the plate. Tigris's meal looks completely different from mine and I wonder if she isn't actually a mutt that has been given a Capitol role. Her plate has fish as well but all raw. Some pieces still having the skin of the fish on them. I have a hard time eating well she slurps up and consumes the raw animal without hesitation.

Most of our meal is eaten in silence. Tigris isn't much of a talker and I do not know what to bring up. Can't talk about District 6 and I know nothing about her life to make conversation with. But when I am almost done my meal I feel like I need to speak up to break the awkward silence.

"So what will I be wearing for the Tribute Parade?"

"You're confident in your body?" Tigris asks.

"Yea, I'd say so," I reply.

"Good," She says and that is it.

She is a woman of very few words. Even taking this cat persona too seriously. She talks as little as she can, mostly replying to questions in purrs or else hisses which I worked out to be yes or no rather quickly. But I enjoy it. Most of the people in the Capitol look at me with such intensity that never goes away. At first, I thought it was great having the attention but t quickly wore off. But Tigris couldn't care less if I was a celebrity or not, she treats me like she would anyone. So even though she barely talks, she is one of my more favourable residents of the Capitol.

We sit around after eating. The tribute Parade happens later tonight but the hours seem to go by rather quickly. Tigris lays on one of the couches in the room, her feet tucked under her and her arms sprawled out like a cat. I stay by the window, watching the hustle and bustle of the city below us. The colourful people walking alone streets or driving in cars. Before I know it it is time for the Tribute Parade.

I see now why she asked if I was confident in my body. My entire torso lays bare and exposed to the world, only sprayed with bits of silver glitter that is meant to represent steel. Long pieces of fabric dangle from my arms, taking the pattern of tires. But it is the pants that shock me the most, not because they are the average Capitol's bad taste but because they baffle me. It looks like I had just unravelled a tire and stuck it on my legs as pants. The material is identical to the thick hard rubber used on many of the armoured vehicles I helped make by at work, but it is light as a feather and soft. And to top it off is a pair of boots and a headpiece that looks like tangled train tracks. Petro looks to be in the same kind of getup. Except one of the long tire track like fabric pieces runs from her neck, down her chest, and ending at her ankles. Petro wears makeup that makes her look dangerous, black shadow on her eyelids that extends towards her eyeline, a a natural lip colour that seems brighter than it should be. Though our costumes aren't the best in the parade we look strong, we look fierce.

Tigris enters the area and Petro has to take a second look at her, dumbfounded by the appearance of my stylist. Tigris rearranges my headpiece so it is more centered and works on keeping it in place using pins and a gel-like substance.

"Thank you," I tell her. She only responds with a slight bow of her head. Like I said, a woman of few words.

There is an announcement telling us that the parade is about to start and all the tributes begin to mount onto their own chariots. Each chariot is pulled by two black horses, haven being taught the path so much they don't need to be guided, they already know where and what to do. I step onto my chariot with Petro and allow our stylists and prep teams to make some last minute applications.

"Nervous?" I glance at Petro. Her brown eyes seeming much more intense now that black shadow circles her eyes.

"We aren't friends," Petro snaps, "So stop acknowledging me."

I know she doesn't want to talk, that she wants us to just steer clear of each other until the games commence. But I find it fun to say little things to her and watching her get mad at them.

The anthem suddenly blares and a tall set of double doors opens up, revealing the crowd line streets which holler and clap in excitement for seeing the tributes. District 1 rolls out first and they are clearly the most mesmerizing tributes in the parade. They wear rough and bunchy clothes with patches of red and maroon in them that makes the tributes themselves look like gems. District 2 follows in some brick themed outfit, then 3 in a dark outfit with hundreds of wires that poke out. Before I know it our chariot yanks forward and we begin to move onto the street.

The crowds scream and roar at the site of another pair of tributes entering the street, drowning out the music that already plays too loudly. They are watching everything, looking at every tribute, you can clearly see which favours who. Roses being thrown to District 1's tributes alone with 2 and 4, I even catch a few being thrown at District 10's tributes for their elegant yet violent costumes. Petro and I get some attention as well, though no roses are thrown our way we hear some people scream our names. A few people scream for Petro but she looks straight ahead, not caring for the people who desire her blood to be spilled on TV. I take a different approach. The few times I hear my name being called I look in the general direction and give waves and smiles, taking Caliper's advice.

I can hear his voice in my head, "Treat them like they are the celebrity." More times than not it is a female who hollers my name, waving at me vehemently, having no idea that I not only like the company of other men but also have a boyfriend already. But I decide to play this angle up and make sure to puff out my chest and flex my arms, the years of lifting heavy steel beams and tires having sculpted a large amount of muscle onto me that I could rival that of a career. I wave at the women and give award winning smiles to those who holler my name.

One of the women who holler my name has to be a potential sponsor, so I be sure to try and locate everyone that I hear and make sure to scream "I love you," Out to them. Odds are they won't hear me from the music and cheers going on but they could possibly read my lips.

The chariots begin to slow down and come to a stop when we reach the city centre, the music coming to an end just as the last chariot halts. A thin man in an expensive suit steps out onto the balcony a few meters above us. His white beard and hair groomed to perfection. I always found it odd how his name matched his pale features so much, President Snow and he looked as if he had just jumped into a pile of snow.

He scans the rows of tributes, the large screens pan from one chariot to the other as if giving us a glimpse into what the president is seeing right now.

"Tributes, we welcome you," The president's voice booms throughout the street, "And we salute your courage and your sacrifice."

the crowd cheers louder at this as if getting even more hyped about the word sacrifice. Really seems like they are saluting it...More like beckoning for it.

"Happy Hunger Games," Snow finishes, "And may the odds be ever in your favour."

After that, the chariots are pulled away into the Training Centre. Now, now is when it gets really hard.


	6. Dinner talk

The Training Centre is a massive building, at least 100, if not more, levels high. It's used to house the tributes before they enter the Arena, along with additional housing for their teams, victors, and even special rooms for Capitol citizens who pay to get the tribute experience. The Training room, interview room, and much more lay within the walls of the Training Centre s that the tributes never have to leave until the games commence.

When I enter the District 6's level, though, I never do want to leave. The walkway from the door to the living area has small pebbles with medium sized, leafless trees that I question are artificial or not. The dining area is elevated, the two walls that are connected to the dining room are made of pure glass allowing viewing to the Capitol. The living area has a curved couch with a hexagonal table. There is also more windows that give spectacular views of the Capitol.

Volumnia approaches us from the living area. "So happy that you are finally here! I have been talking up you two all day!" She caresses Petro's cheek, "Capitol's sweetheart." She then touches my cheek, "And the most desirable tribute." She turns back to Petro. "Everyone wants to get to know you." She looks at me with a move mischievous smile, "And everyone wants you."

Glad to know that my attempt at looking attractive and desirable has paid off. It wasn't really the persona I was planning to use, wanted a more intellectual or friendly approach, but if being the sexy male from District 6 is what gets me sponsors then so be it.

"Now come along," Volumnia turns and walks down the walkway, "You have to get cleaned up for dinner."

My room is immense. The dark marble floors with a plush bed and a few chairs. There is a massive glass window that provides, even more, views of the Capitol but a small remote allows me to change the scenery. I can view anything from the Capitol streets to a desert, to tundra. I spend a few minutes flipping through the different terrains that I can have as my view. I keep stopping at the views of the city streets and people, still imagining how this is Markos's home, that he has walked those streets with the other odd looking people who call the Capitol home. The closet is an entirely different room, offering a variety of clothes that have never been worn before. I heard that after the games they auction off the clothes of the dead tributes, even if they didn't wear the clothes.

The bathroom is about the same size of the closet and has, even more, options than the train did. A panel of buttons that control everything from the type of soap I want, water temperature, oils, scrubs, sponges, and more. I ask for one of the Capitol attendants to come in and show me what each of them does. He is a younger man who looks exhilarated to even be in my presence. He spends the next 10 minutes showing me what each button does and describing what some of the products are since we have never heard of things like a facial mask or body toner back in District 6. He says it deep cleans your skin but isn't that what water and soap does? But I make a mental note to try them to see if they equal up to soap.

I play around with the many customizations that are in my room. I set the room temperature, keeping it cool to remind me of the nights back at District 6. Our wooden house doing little to keep the heat in but the fire helping to keep us warm. On really cold nights we would all sleep in the same bed, those were always the warmest nights.

I wonder what everyone is doing now? Are Clauria and mom making supper? Did they watch the coverage of the parade? Of course, they did, probably were some of the first people in District 6 to flip on their TV. I could see them sitting on the worn out couch that lays in front of the TV. Eating the thick, tasteless bread made from tesserae grain, having some kind of soup, maybe with a type of meat like pig or lamb if Clauria managed to gather enough money for it. Michelle would probably be forced to watch by mom, the three of them sitting on the couch, having a family meal which I can only attend through the TV. Was Markos giving them meals like he did with me? Clauria talked how she wanted to meet him, has this made that happen and is he helping them get by? I hate the not knowing, the wondering of what is going on. It was killing me every second that I was not home.

I am called to supper and go down to see Tigris, along with Petro's stylist, Evano, discuss with each other, possibly about the interview outfits in a few days. My curiosity urges me to go check what they are talking about, see if I can put my voice into the mix, but I decide against it.

We sit down to eat. Starting the meal off with bread pieces that have spinach in them and a bowl of white soup that has chunks of potatoes in it. Fascia barely even touches her food, her eyes glazed over as she sits back in her chair, clearly going through a high from more morphling. Everyone else though engages in small talk, they discuss the Tribute Parade but it moves on to the new gamemaker Seneca Crane and what they think he will bring to the games. They are at least respectful about the matter and avoid talking to deep about it or seeming too anxious about what will be seen in this game. By the time the main course rolls around, A boiled crab that has a salad made up with soft grain, leafy greens, tomatoes, and sliced melon, we are discussing the other tributes. Volumnia, Tigris, and Evano have priceless information since they are permitted to leave the Training Centre and view programs on the television that aren't permitted for the tributes since it might give them an unfair advantage.

Volumnia says how Blaire, the female from District 7, is already being discussed as the toughest and most likely to win besides the careers. The careers being tributes from 1, 2, and 4 who train their entire lives for the opportunity to be in the games. Another front-runner for the title of victor is Marco, the male from District 4. Volumnia tells me that I need to become more attractive since Marco is also playing up the sexy tribute and is doing better. I don't know how exactly I can become more attractive but I give a nod so she doesn't feel ignored or challenged.

After supper is finished Volumnia ushers us to our bedrooms, telling us that tomorrow is very important, that we will be seeing the other tributes face to face during training so we need to look our best. I don't argue and go to bed. I hate the size of the bed, it is so big for just one person that I feel lonely laying in it by myself. But I grab a pillow and hold it, giving me some kind of comfort.


	7. Training

I wake up to Caliper knocking on my door. He looks better, much healthier than when he did during the Reaping. His eyes look more alive, his hair softer, and his skin seems to have more life to it. I gotta commend him. He is half way through the process of the withdrawals and is coaching at the same time. I can only imagine how many times he has had to have a Capitol attendant or avox with him, helping him through the withdrawals, feeding him medicine. But he can probably go through the rest alone.

He sits in one of the plush chairs well eating an apple.

"So what are you better at? Wielding weapons or surviving in the woods?" He asks.

I gave this some thought late last night, since I knew training was today. I know some basic rules of survival, don't eat snow, never eat berries you don't know, white berries make you sick, how to start a fire from the hundreds of times I had to make fire at home. I wouldn't call myself an expert survivalist, ready to take on any and all terrains the Capitol can throw at me. But I feel I have enough knowledge to get by and not struggle well in the arena, as long as the arena is a easy terrain like a forest and not a tundra-like 4 years ago. It was a boring game, 16 of the tributes died on the first day. 9 from the bloodbath and 7 from the cold. The gamemakers waited to see what would happen on the second day, but after 2more tributes died from freezing to death they sent everyone insulated clothing in hopes that it would prolong the game a bit and give the tributes a chance to find and kill each other instead of laying around and freezing.

"Surviving," I answer.

"Great. So make sure to focus on the weapons today, choose at least two, maybe three and just focus on those the entire day. Tomorrow maybe try a few survival stations but just focus on weapons cause that is what you need," Caliper tells me. I give a nod in response. He also tells me to avoid Petro at all costs. That if the other tributes see how we aren't together they might use that to their advantage.

Usually, tributes from districts tend to help each other, they don't align, but if they can they will help one another since if either of them wins their district gets a year of food and money. One year a lot of the tributes from the same districts aligned, more than usual. People kept traveling in pairs of two and helping each other survive, that was one of the longer and more bloodier games I seen. It makes sense since if the other tributes see Petro and I won't do that then they might come after us early in the games, knowing that we are truly alone in the games and make easier targets.

Caliper leaves and I get ready for training. Have a shower. I use one of the foams and lotions that make my body smell like some fruit called a coconut, I have never heard of a coconut before but it smells amazing and I spend the next few minutes sniffing my arms and shoulders due to the scent. I then get changed for the training, an outfit that forms to your body. Black pants with a black shirt that has red and white designs, the number 6 is on the black along with on the short sleeves of the shirt.

I meet Caliper, Fascia, and Petro down in the dining room for breakfast. It's an awkward breakfast. Volumnia and neither of our stylists join u and make small talk and no one wants to talk since we are trained separately. Even the two avox's in the room seem uncomfortable from the silence, only the sound of forks or knives hitting plates fill the air. Petro doesn't bother to even look my way. But Fascia glances my way a few times as if sizing me up, seeing if she made the right choice to mentor Petro and not me.

I load my plate up with fresh fruits. Back at District 6, the only thing you can get fresh is meat, bread, and blackberries. The district is bare and the soil isn't good in most parts so it is impossible to grow anything. I also try a pile of eggs with chunks of raw salmon in it, I am a bit hesitant to eat raw fish but Caliper tells me that they make it safe to eat and I try it, I am glad I did since the taste is unbeatable and I have 2 more servings of the mixture. I also try a few waffles and manage to eat three before I am filled.

After we are done eating Volumnia appears from her chambers. Her long blue hair has been made into a massive bow on the side of her head and she wears a black and gold outfit that appears to be made of metal. She says it is to show her support for District 6 but I don't see how her outfit shows any kind of relation for District 6, but then again I don't get the Capitol's style so I gush over the outfit which seems to score me some points with Volumnia. She takes us down to the training room.

The elevator ride takes us underground and opens to a gigantic, complex room. It is all just one room but it has a few sections broken apart by partial walls. Survival stations line the edges of the room, offering a small portion of different terrains. One appears to be a winter terrain with actual snow where you learn how to stay warm, another one that looks like the forests back at District 6 offers to teach you how to make fire. In the inner parts of the gym are the weapon training and obstacle courses. Large platforms, nets, and ropes offer obstacles to train your agility well different stations with dummies and silhouettes are for weapons. Everything from dagger training to how to swing a mace properly.

A dark skinned woman named Atala stands in the middle of the room, on top of a small circular platform. She begins to talk about how we can move about the gym freely and experts will remain at their stations ready to teach us. She tells us that we are forbidden to fight with other tributes and then goes on about advice. But I begin to zone out and focus on the other tributes whom stand in a circle around the platform.

The two from District 3 are very thin with ashen skin and dark hair, they could almost pass for siblings. Their eyes dart from one station to the next or else to the tributes. Twice I catch them focused on me but ignore it. The girl from 8, Vicuna, seems focused on the gamemakers who sit in an elevated den that overlooks the entire gymnasium. Not once does she break her sight on them. Wheaton, the male from 9, stands beside me. Just from the corner of my eye I can see his body vibrating and hear his shaky breaths. I try to ignore it best I can. Anyone can see that he won't last long in the games and I'd rather not gain sympathy for someone who will be killed off soon.

Once Atala is done talking we are free to do as we please. The tributes break off quickly, mostly going to stations alone. I go to the sword training station, since swords are usually the most common weapon in the games, but the males from 1 and 2 have claimed the station and effortless swing the swords around. Asserting their dominance whenever someone comes near the station. I hated how arrogant most of the careers were. I always thought that the only reason they win mostly every games was because they always stuck together. Six of the strongest, fastest, deadliest tributes in the games hunting as one. But if they were alone and played the games like everyone else they wouldn't last long, they would probably be some of the first dead. In games that their supplies get wiped out and they are forced to hunt or else when they get split up due to a disaster they are quick to die off. Unable to hunt properly and having zero knowledge of how to survive in the wilderness. Those that do survive the elements end up getting picked off by tributes from other districts, being too weakened by starvation and dehydration to put up much of a fight. So they needed to stick together, they needed to claim the cornucopia as their territory, if they didn't they would be easy targets. So well most tributes feared the careers I thought they were more of the weaker ones in the games.

I follow Caliper's advice and focus on weapons. I take the knife station first since it is empty. It doesn't take me long to learn how to properly hold a knife and some good techniques to use with a knife. He teaches me moves to make from different positions. Not to just swing the knife crazy but to be precise and take short but strong jabs or slashes at the target. Once I feel confident with a knife I thank my instructor and move onto the next station.

I try my hand at the axe station. Since I use one to chop wood all the time for the fires I figure it would be easier to learn and I am not wrong. Within an hour I feel confident in the weapon, sending the head of the axe through dummies life a knife through butter. I stay at the station for another hour to make sure I have really mastered the weapon, least enough to be lethal with it and know what I am doing.

I decide to take a break and watch what the other tributes are doing, hoping to see what the excel at so I can figure out what to expect from them. Petro seems to be focused on obstacle courses, probably working on toning her body for the arena. I see the two from District 3 struggling to use the camouflage section, but I know if it was fire or knots they would be excelling at it. Blaire, the one I was told to watch out for, is with the careers. They swing swords and throw spears at the dummies, clearly already having formed an alliance.

"Isn't it fantastic," I hear a voice behind me and jump. Vicuna stands only inches away. "The clothes. I was always so jealous of the clothes here, the colours, the patterns." She continues, "Who would have thought I would be here and be wearing the very clothes I admire."

I never expected a tribute to walk up and start talking to me but also never expected one to seem so joyful about being here. I knew she was from District 8 where they make textiles for the Capitol, but usually, the citizens hate their industry since they are worked long hours doing it. But Vicuna is the exception, she has a passion for cloth.

"I'm Vicuna, District 8," She holds her hand to shake.

I'm cautious. Which tribute just openly talks with another with such intensity and happiness? It must be a trick. But I slowly shake her hand. "Remus."

"District 6 right?" Vicuna asks.

"Yea."

"You people really need to brighten up, literally. Every year on the Reaping it is all black, so depressing," Vicuna makes numerous facial expressions well she talks.

"It's trad-" I am suddenly cut off by her.

"I'm a dressmaker back at 8. My father was a designer for some Capitol citizens, can you believe that. Anyways, got us a nice house away from all the smog of the factories. So gross down there. So I started making dresses." Vicuna talks too quickly that is is almost hard to understand what she is saying.

I glance around and see that some of the other tributes have begun to look over, seeing that two tributes from different districts talk is unusual.

"Why are you talking to me?" I ask, curious.

"Well you were not my first choice, let me tell you. I tried talking to the girl from 10, but she just stared at me blankly. Then I tried the boy from 4 but he got mad. So thought I would try you," She gives a smile.

I give a grin back but then walk away from her. The last thing I need right now is the careers or other tributes believing that I just made an alliance with District 8 and get targeted for it. Who knows, maybe that was her strategy. Make it seem like everyone is aligned with her, then flee from the bloodbath and let tributes battle each other in an attempt to end an alliance that didn't even exist. It was an idiotic idea, but I could see someone trying it.

During lunch, everyone sits by themselves except for the careers. Vicuna tries to talk up the boy from 9 and he seems to enjoy her company so they end up eating together. I also notice the tributes from 10 have stuck together most of the day as well. Likely having some sort of deal or alliance or maybe they are just friends wanting to spend their last days together.

I spend the rest of the day swinging around an axe and a knife well observing the other tributes. On the second day it is the same thing, axe and knife but I branch out to practice with a spear after the careers get bored and leave the station to go shoot bows. They are a bit more tricky and I keep slamming the handle of the axe against parts of my body, I'm also unable to throw it as I miss the target every time. Things get interesting after lunch when the male from 5 drops from a net and hurts his foot, medics rush in to help and he is taken out of the room for the rest of the day. After that I move onto a few survival stations. I start a fire with ease, am relatively good at making snares, and I learn about finding water in tough situations. I feel like that one would be a good skill to learn since most games they diminish the amount of water left in the arena as the days go on to help encourage tributes to kill faster. Atala calls a end to the day and Petro and I head back up to our floor.

We dine on steaks with potatoes and wine, the wine hits me hard and I end up feeling sick so I am helped to my room by one of the avox's. I feel the need to talk to her and tell her how it wasn't smart of me to drink wine since I have to show my skills to the gamemakers tomorrow to get my score. She only nods as she helps me to bed. It doesn't take long for me to fall asleep.


	8. Scores

The low hum of the elevator is the only noise that can be heard. The high speed of the contraption takes me down to the training room where I will show the gamemakers my chosen skill in hopes of impressing them enough to get a good score. I need to be at my best, to show everything I have learned in the past two days. If I get a low score it means that the sponsors will ignore me and when I get into the arena the tributes will target me, believing I'm an easy target. A few people who get low scores do sometimes win the games, though it is rare. The girl who won last year, Johanna, got a two on her score, but that was pure strategy, she was trying to seem weak. The training score seems to be a very good prediction on who will win since most of the victors I have watched have gotten at least a 6 or better in their scores. So that is my goal, a 6, at least that and then I will be happy.

The doors open to the gym but I am guided by two pairs of avox's to the lunch room where already the rest of the tributes sit. I find a table that has no one near it and plop down on one of the seats. The careers sit with Blaire as they talk and laugh, occasionally they scan the room as if to look for any tribute who dare look in their direction. A few times they catch me but I only look due to Herminia, the girl from District 2, who looks like she doesn't belong at their table. She has a pair of sleek glasses and her face is narrow, framed by her long brown hair which falls in natural curls. The only career qualities she has about her is her height, easily more than 6 feet, and her lean muscles. Usually, District 2 gives mean looking tributes, Herminia has more of an intellectual innocents to her.

"Amethyst Lingston," a voice calls over the speakers.

The girl from District 1 stands up. Now she looks like a career. Towering over 6 feet, her cold blue eyes and facial expression that reads "superiority." Her blonde hair is cut short, not going past her jaws. She gives a grin to the pack of careers before she walks with stride to the doorway into the gym.

After Marco is called the gym gets more hushed, allowing to hear the whispering of others. Vicuna and the boy from 9 sit together and whisper to each other, sometimes laughing. I'm glad she found someone who likes having her company, it wasn't that I didn't like talking to her it was more a strategic move to make sure I stay alive longer. The two from 10 also remain together and I catch them talking about some girl from their school named Ruba. A few more minutes and Petro is called. She stands up and walks away. I have to wonder how someone who looks 11 and stands at 4'10 can be such a huge threat. I can't help but remember how when we shook hands at the Reaping I thought she had no chance at winning, now her chances seem greater than my own.

After 10 minutes I hear my name called. Remus Kirkwood. I stand up and make my way into the gymnasium. I'm instantly nervous when I enter the room. The gamemakers all seem focused on me, their prying eyes following my every move. Some of them talk among themselves or else eat and drink but most stay diligent to their job.

I look at the many stations in the gym, only three I can really show them. Knives, axe, or spear. I am mediocre at best with the spear, the knife is simple and not as impressive unless I can throw them, so I turn my attention to the many types of axes. I grab a long one with a black handle and a silver head that has a smooth blade to it. I can already feel my palms get sweaty which will only hinder my chances at getting a good score.

I take a quick and strong swing, slicing off one of the dummies heads and my heart pounds with a cheer. That must look good, I just sliced a dummies head off with ease. I keep the moment up and spin, slashing the axe behind me, the blade slices through the dummies lower half and it breaks at the hip. GOOD. I end the move with a swing that forces the blade into one of the dummies heads, slicing down from the top and finally stopping at the neck. I struggle to release the blade but get it out eventually. I look back at the gamemakers but they haven't clapped, haven't said anything, they are expecting more. What else do I do? Swinging around an axe was about as good as I got. They're probably expecting me to throw it and hit a dummy 20 yards away or else move in intricate ways as I slash and dice multiple dummies at once.

I continue to swing the axe around. I cut off another head but keep it going to it embeds itself half way through another dummy. I slice at the legs, the arms, and the chest. My strength helping the axe cut deep into the dummies which I hope they notice and take into consideration. After about five minutes of me hacking at dummies, one tells me that it is enough. He thanks me for my time and dismisses me. I thank him, place the axe back, and head out. My heart feeling like it has jumped ship, leaving my body feeling empty and disappointed.

By the time I reach the floor I feel a lump in my throat, my chest has tightened, and my eyes burn. I walked in their thinking I could at least get a 6 but now I am not so sure. I know Clauria, mom, and Markos are waiting to see my scores, expecting me to get a high score, something that gets me noticed. But I know I let them down already. At least I won't disappoint Michelle if she is even watching these programs.

"How did you do!?" Volumnia rushes towards me. Caliper trailing behind.

"Good," I lie.

"Make sure you don't say anything about what you did for your session," Caliper mumbles as he gets closer to me. I know he means don't tell Fascia or Petro since they seem to be on opposing teams even though we are from the same district. But I give a nod.

After which I just make my way to the balcony. I consider jumping for a moment, just a moment, save myself the pain and agony of the arena. There are people who can take your head off with a spear from 50 meters away, women who can snap your neck 16 different way. But all I can do is swing an axe or knife and make fires. I can already feel my chances of winning decrease to just a sliver of a hope.

As time goes on the thoughts clear my mind. The training outfit does little to block the warmth of my body from being stolen by the gentle breeze. The distant sounds of people talking, vehicles driving, and music emits from below. It's a foreign sound to me but it is calming. I end up closing my eyes and listening to the Capitol. Did my brother, Toben, sit here before his games? Did he sleep in the bed I sleep in now? It was an odd feeling knowing you are following in the footsteps of your brother, even more, weird knowing that he was only 12 at the time. Here I am, 16 years. Was he scared? Did he enjoy himself here? How many times did he cry? How was his private session? I remember he scored a two. Was he mad at me for not volunteering for him? I remember when he got called up during the Reaping, I was just 14. The thought had crossed my mine to just scream out the two simple words, "I volunteer." But they weren't so simple. They are the most difficult, gut-wrenching words to pronounce. I just stood there along with the herd of other males as I watched my younger brother get pulled into the hub, went into the room to say goodbye to him. He didn't even talk. He sat on the couch and cried non-stop well mom held him in her arms. We were all crying, even Michelle. I think we all knew this was the last time we would see him and it was. On the 3rd day of the 70th annual Hunger Games, he was killed. The female from District 5 found him in a cave. She grabbed him by the throat and began to squeeze and squeeze and squeeze. All I could do was sit with my family and watch as the light left his eyes, as the cannon fired that confirmed he was dead. Before that, I used to think the worst thing in life was starving but I was wrong, it is watching someone you love die. The image never leaves your brain, it stays at the back of your head, buried beneath thoughts and memories, only occasionally surfacing in dreams or reminders. And then you relive the entire ordeal all over again. It was hard burying my brother in the simple wooden box that he was sent to us in. Watching as dirt was thrown onto him and he vanished into the earth. But it was even harder burying his memories. That he wasn't only dead in life, but dead in my head. It was easier that way to hide what traces of him there was in my memories and thoughts. It makes it easier now or at least I thought. But I dig him up, dust off his coffin, bring back his memories, his thoughts, the things we did together. His name was Toben Kirkwood, he was killed in the 70th Annual Hunger Games but now he will be with me, right by my side, as I enter the 72nd Annual Hunger Games. If I follow his footsteps, get killed, then I will get to see him again. But if I don't, if I pull off the impossible and manage to win, then the 72nd Hunger Games will have two winners, two brothers who entered the arena as one.

I look up at the sky, dark fluffy clouds partially block out the sun that shines down on the Capitol. I remember some people who believed that when you died you went to a place in the sky. I don't know if that is true but I make sure to give a look up. "Love you Tobs," I say.

Volumnia is knocking on the glass behind me, telling me that supper is ready. I get off the chair that I made home for the few hours on the balcony and go inside to join everyone for supper. I stick out like a sore thumb with my training outfit. Evano and Volumnia give me looks as if to ask why I haven't changed but I disregard them. This is why I enjoyed having Tigris as my stylist, she showed that she cared through her clothes, trying to get me sponsors, the quick but visible glances she gives as if to constantly watch me to make sure I am fine, ready to swoop in if I am really in need of help. It makes me feel bad for thinking she was a mutt when I first saw her.

We eat a salad with raspberry sauce to start off with but work into a plate of rice with orange sauce on top and chicken, a pile of miniature peas, corn, and broccoli, which I find fascinating, corn the size of my pinkie, there is also soft fluffy buns. Evano brings up the private sessions. Petro goes on about how she feels confident in her score and that she did her best, I give no words to my session. I don't even say if it was good or not. A simple "You'll see," is all I say in response. We will see. And I am nervous when we do. As strange as it is I care about what Volumnia, Caliper, and Tigris think about me since I know they are placing in a lot of work in order to make sure I have a better chance to win the games, so I would hate to let them down. By the time we get a chocolate cake that has coffee icing and strawberries on top, the conversation has gone back to its usual gossip about other Capitol citizens. A girl who tripped and broke her shoe and had to walk through half the city in her bare feet. This one gets a big laugh from most of the attendance of the supper. I don't get what is so funny however, many people in District 6 end up walking home without shoes after they break or else after they trade them for drugs or food. By the time I am finished with my two pieces of cake it is time for the training scores.

We all gather in the living area. The tributes picture is shown with the score ranging from 1, horribly bad, to 12, unbelievably good but I don't think anyone in the history of the games has ever gotten a 12. Ceaser Flickerman, the host of the Hunger Games, gives subtle comments as he reads off the names and scores. Both from District 1 score a 9, the careers usually score fairly high. Herminia gets a 10 which shocks me since it is the highest of all the careers and she looks like the least lethal one. District 5 male gets a one and I can't help but smile since I know I can at least beat him in the scores. Then it is District 6. My face shows up as Ceaser reads my name with a smile. I end up rubbing my palms together in anticipation of my score and then he says it.

"Three," Ceaser says.

I feel my heart sink. I have to force a deep breath into my lungs cause it is as if they had just deflated at the number. Three. That is so painfully low that whatever sponsors I had will move on to more promising tributes and leave me to be slaughtered. I can hear Caliper let out a groan, Volumnia an "Ooh..." But I decide to go along with it. I wanted as high of a score as I could possibly get but if I got a three then I will act like I got a three on purpose. I do my best to look unfazed at the number, even grin a bit at the sight of it. That way Caliper and the others will think it is all just strategy and Petro will think I have been concealing my true talents this entire time, even though I haven't.

It is Petro's turn and I can't help but feel more distressed when she scores a 7. there is a part of me that hopes she gets killed on the first day since she seems great at everything but if I don't make it then her winning will benefit my family the most. So I force a smile and join the others as they clap and congratulate Petro for getting a good score.

Blaire, the dark skinned female from District 7, who scores a 10 which is rare for a non-career district to get such a high score. Vicuna even does good and somehow gets a 7. I didn't see her pick up a single weapon during training so she must be concealing some kind of hidden talent. The rest score between a 4-6 except for the female from District 10 who manages a 8. I can't help but notice all the strong female tributes this year. I need to be sure to either align with them before the games start or else help take them down early in the games. Someone like Blaire could easily win if she isn't taken out.


	9. Interview prep

I watch the sun begin to peek over the snow-capped mountains that line the outskirts of the Capitol. Rays of light shine down on the tall skyscrapers well the smaller buildings and streets of the Capitol remain untouched by the light cast from the sun. But it is the sky that is the most gorgeous. Mixes of purples, reds, yellows, and blues smear together like a painting. I could sit and watch it forever but already Volumnia is knocking on my door.

"Wakey wakey! Breakfast is waiting," Her voice enthusiastic and cheery.

Today will be a day of training, but not with weapons or survival tactics. Instead, we will be training for the interviews for tomorrow that will be our last chance at winning the crowds of the Capitol and ring in a few last minute sponsors, if that is even possible for me at this point. I feel confident for the interviews, unlike for the training scores. I enjoy talking and consider myself quite likable and charming so I just have to act how I normally act.

I get dressed in a simple outfit, dark pants, blue shirt, and a snug, red wool hoodie. I join everyone for breakfast and we discuss what today will be like. Caliper and Fascia come to an agreement that Petro will have her time with Volumnia first to learn proper manners and how to present herself in a Capitol-worthy manner since she is a female and has more to go through. I will go with Caliper and learn what persona to go with and how to answer questions. I finish my plate of eggs in a white sauce with a fruit salad and then go with Caliper to the living area well Fascia, Petro, and Volumina head to Petro's room to learn proper etiquette.

"So you have already been presenting yourself in a desirable way, so I believe we should stick with that." Caliper says, "It would be too confusing if we changed that now and had you act smart or fierce."

I could not pull off smart of fierce if I wanted too. I got a three in the training score so if I walked on stage acting like I am going to obliterate the competition or else think my way out of everything then people will know it is an act, my three will be brought up and my ferocity or intelligence will be put into question. So I am already bound to only a few different ways to present myself as is, but like Caliper says I have already been focusing on looking desirable from the Tribute Parade when I focused on the women in the crowd and waved at them and told them how I loved them. Plus Volumnia has been talking me up in a desirable way so I don't argue with Caliper's choice.

"You have the looks to b desirable now you just need the attitude," Caliper tells me.

"My attitude isn't desirable?" I question.

"You're too...Nice," He says. "We need you to be more mysterious, strong, and sexy."

"I can do that."

But it is clear I am not as good as I thought. We go through a few interview questions. It becomes quickly clear that I struggle with acting sexy, I am overly excited and say too much. Acting mysterious is a bit better but with some questions, I jabber and ruin the "mood." But I am able to act strong with ease because it isn't an act. Caliper says I need to exaggerate my strength and show off which I do but don't enjoy, I feel like one of the careers, standing like I am something of a god well showing off my muscles and abilities, it doesn't mix well with me. Caliper says I am good enough to fool the Capitol but I know the rest of Panem will either catch on that I am faking my pride of my looks and muscles or else think I am some kind of cocky ass and only want my death sooner.

We spend the next two hours trying to get me good at acting sexy. I feel like an idiot with how I answer the questions and smile but Caliper says that it is what the women of the Capitol would enjoy so I don't question it. I do have a feeling of betrayal however, not that I have been betrayed but more that I am the betrayer. Markos will be watching this, my boyfriend, the person I love, and I will be acting like he doesn't exist and I have a crush on all the females of Panem. I wouldn't mine if he was from one of the districts, he would see through my fakeness, but the people from the Capitol are more gullible, they are more trusting. When they watch the interviews they believe every word that comes out of the tributes mouth. Maybe Markos's time in District 6 as a peacekeeper will allow him to shed that gullible quality but I don't know for sure. So the thought of stepping out there and flirting with the Capitol well he watches makes me sick to my stomach. I know Clauria would not be too pleased as well. She would be telling me, "What are you thinking?! Don't risk your relationship for people who want to see you die." But it is for my own survival, so I can get back to my family. By the end of the two hours Caliper says I will be fine.

We gather for lunch and Petro stands in a bright pink dress with a bow in her hair, she does not look happy. I am sure she has muttered a few illegible words under her breath. But Volumnia looks happy and pleased so I figure Petro did good in her time with Volumnia. We barely have enough time to eat the fish soup and roast beef with potatoes before we are separating again to train some more for the interviews.

Now it is Volumnia's turn with me. Caliper sits in the corner of the room but he provides no input. Volumnia's warrior style takes effect as she begins to boss me around to mold me into a perfectly mannered citizen. It is like a whole new person has taken over her. She gets me to stand straight and she pushes my chest out, presses my abs, "Flex," She demands and I do. Then she taps under my chin and I raise my head high. "I don't see a smile," She tells me and I smile the way Caliper told me too. She tells me to sit and I go to do just that but Volumnia is annoyed with how I completely break my form to sit down. She tells me I can't bend my back, to keep flexing, that I may only lower my head for a few seconds but must raise it up again. For the next 30 minutes, I practice how I sit. Once Volumnia is pleased with it, she gives me a quick clap and I thank her. She gets mad at how much I move my hands well talking. "You're drawing the focus to your hands!" She barks as she continuously slaps my arms every time I move them. We then work on eye contact – since I look around well talking – my laugh, smile, facial expressions, and when to look at the audience. She tells me over and over, "Never look into the camera!" After the four hours is over Volumnia blocks the door as she smiles.

"Every year you barbarians surprise me on how well mannered and polite you become," Volumnia gives me a hug, "I am so proud of you!"

This is the first hug that I didn't accept so I just stand with my arms to the side until she lets go. The fact that she thinks I am the barbarian is laughable. She, along with the other Capitol citizens, are the ones who watch children kill each other for entertainment. But I keep my mouth shut to not get on her bad side. She helps draw in sponsors well we are in the games, though she can't actually sign them up, she can get them interested and willing and I am positive Volumnia enjoys my company much more than Petro's. If she likes me more than she will likely focus on getting me sponsors instead of Petro. Finally, something I can beat Petro at.


	10. Forbidden Love

I awaken to see Pumice, Fava, and Tauria standing over me with big grins. Their painted faces and whacky hair scares me so much that I almost fall out of the bed, it makes them all giggle. They help me out of bed and rush me out of the room before I even have time to place on a pair of pants or shirt, so walking past Petro and her prep team in only my underwear makes the day start off in embarrassment. My prep team seems indifferent about the condition of my exposure though.

My prep team wastes no time getting to work. Fava snips at my hair with a small pair of scissors and then spikes it to the left side. Pumice applies makeup to my face. She keeps my natural tan colour as a base but then uses a cream to block out small blemishes or parts of uneven skin tone. My cheekbones are brought out with highlighter and my nose is sculpted using dark and light creams. They add small bits of black around my eyes and deepen the colour of my eyelashes. Tauria finishes with a thick bumpy liquid that whitens your teeth temporarily. She applies it to each tooth and within 5 minutes my teeth are blindingly white. They continue their talking as they do this all. Discussing parties and food as they work with ease. After two hours I am done.

I am whisked down the elevator to the backstage from where the interviews will take place. We take a small break in a room designated only for my prep team, stylist, and I. I'm not allowed to eat due to the whitening gel Tauria applies so I end up drinking water through a straw.

"Can we take a picture?" Fava asks.

Back in District 6 pictures are taken with a big bulky camera that needs a stand, the flash makes you see spots for a few seconds afterward. I only know this from the one and only family picture we had taken a year before Toben got Reaped for the Hunger Games. But the Capitol version is much more efficient. It is a small device that fits in the palm of your hand. There is a screen that gives you a clear and colourful view of what the picture will look like and with a click of a button the photo is captured in half a second with no flash.

I look at the photo taken by my prep team, the four of us are clear. I have to question if it is actually a picture and not a mirror. But that is not the only thing that I have trouble believing. It is me. In the photo, I look as if I belong in the Capitol, not District 6. I resemble nothing as I did before the Reaping. My eyebrows aren't bushy but instead sleek and groomed, my skin flawless, hair trimmed in a style that is only common in the Capitol, even my eyes look a more radiant green. I wonder if I will ever look like I did before all this. If I win I will constantly be pulled out for tours, interviews, mentoring and my prep team will be right there grooming me to look my best. I kinda miss the way I looked before all this.

Tigris enters with my interview clothes. She helps me get dressed into them. Light grey dress shirt with a pure black tie, a darker grey vest, and pants. My shoes are black as well. I'm surprised by how colourless and simple the outfit is since most of the tributes get dressed in bright and colourful suits and dresses for the interviews. But I don't think they were going for colour when they made this, they were going for desirability, the way we have decided to present me. I do look quite desirable. The colourless outfit makes my skin looks more alive and healthier, my eyes greener, and my smile more white. I am sexy, confident, and strong.

"Thank you," I look at my prep team.

"It was our pleasure," Pumice smiles.

I give them each a hug and they leave the room. That will be the final time I see them, they will have no hand in getting me ready for tomorrow.

"And thank you," I turn to Tigris.

She responds with her small bow of the head and purr.

"I'm serious, thank you," I tell her, "the clothes have been astounding."

She stands in front of me for a few moments, thinking about the words, but then steps forward and gives me a hug. It is quick but affectionate. Once she is done she gives my outfit a look over, makes any corrections that need her attention. After she sits on one of the chairs in the room well I pace back and forth, her cat eyes watching as I move.

I'm not nervous, not pacing in fear. This is what I have been waiting for since my name was called. The rest of the tributes excelled at fighting and survival but now it is talking, it is getting people to like you, that I know I can do.

Tigris stands and motions towards the door, her way of saying that it is time to line up for the interviews. I follow her to a long hall that leads to the stage, already most of the tributes are in a line but some, like me, just arrive and find their place. I find my place behind Petro and in front of Blaire. The girl who is at the top of my hitlist. Her puffy black hair has been sleeked back half way down her head, regaining its wild curls near the back. She wears a blood red dress that is ruffled near the bottom, I can't help but think how fitting it is for her to wear something that looks like blood when she is the front runner to win.

The stage is at the end of a long room within the Training Centre. Row after row of seats fill with Capitol citizens well the elevated seating area is filled with more lavish guests such as government officials, game makers, stylists. The stage is brightly lit with two chairs in the middle. I can just see my family on the couch tonight, their TV on right now waiting to see me. Mom will likely have made bread for everyone to nibble on well we watch. Clauria will have forced Michelle out of her room to also view the program. Markos will be in the city square, where there is a public viewing of the games and interviews, making sure that there is no commotion during the viewing but also keeping his eye on the screen for me.

Ceaser Flickerman steps onto the stage as the anthem plays, the crowd goes crazy over him, he is the biggest face in the Capitol. Every year his appearance changes in terms of colour. His hair, eyes, and suit colour take on a new shade every year for the Hunger Games. This year it is a deep shade of purple. He asks the audience how they are doing to which they respond with applause. He then cracks a few jokes which all receive a laugh, then he calls up the first tribute.

Amethyst takes the stage in a white and black dress that stops at her knees. Ceaser kisses her hand and she looks as if she is queen and this is a mandatory gesture everyone must do. Her angle I dominant, powerful, and superior. Her district partner, Dazzle, takes a friendlier approach. He laughs and jokes around with the audience and opens up about his life back in District 1.

The interviews only last a few minutes but Ceaser makes sure those minutes count. He is well timed on when he moves onto the next question so it doesn't seem rushed but not slow either and he helps the tributes how. Laughing at jokes, seeming intrigued on otherwise boring topics, and even flirts with some of the tributes. He is fun and it is hard not to enjoy watching him work the stage.

The male from District 3 pulls off a funny angle, he has the audience laughing the entire three minutes he is up on the stage and they have to take a moment to compose themselves before the next tribute is brought up. The male from District 4 is handsome as Volumnia and the others said. His strong features have only been brought out more by makeup, his eyes a bright aqua blue with light brown hair.

Petro is called up next and she bounces onto the stage in a light blue pouf dress. I think she expected something more mature and grand, but she is only 14 so they need to show off her age somehow.

"So are you ready for the games?" Ceaser asks.

"Yes," Petro says with a smile.

"Oh really? A girl your age," Ceaser questions.

"Well, I am intelligent. Other tributes will be using weapons to win the battles I will be using my brain. My parents are both doctors and I can already perform most surgeries so it will be a useful skill that I will utilize within the arena," Petro says.

It is obvious that they decide she should act smart for the interviews. But it isn't really an act, she is smart. They ask her a few medical questions which she answers with ease, this gets an applause from the audience. She then mentions that if she needs to fight that her medical training has given her an edge since she knows where to stab someone to kill them in one hit. After that, the buzzer rings and Ceaser is calling me to the stage.

I don't hesitate, I walk onto the stage, looking right at the crowds who applaud my entrance. I give them a smile, the way Caliper taught me, not to go to big but show off your teeth. Ceaser shakes my hand, we both sit, and the three minutes starts to count down.

"Look at you!" Ceaser says, "All that muscle, all that charm, how on Earth did you get a three?"

Of course, this is the first question that gets asked. My horrible training score. But I continue acting like it was on purpose, that it was all strategy like Johanna who won last year. "Well, the best things shouldn't be revealed too soon," I tell them.

"Ooh, sounds familiar," Ceaser taps his finger against his chin like he is thinking of who it could be. I chuckle at this, right on cue.

"So Remus, you have been in the Capitol for six days now, what do you think of it?" Ceaser asks.

Yes! Now I can turn this around into the direction I want the interview to go. Place Ceaser in a situation where he asks the same questions that Caliper did. "What isn't to love? It is such an intimate city. But I would say the people are the greatest quality." I turn to face the crowd, smiling again. "People of such beauty, such elegance, it's hard not want to know them in better ways."

"I am sure that we all want to learn more about you," Ceaser looks to the crowd, "Don't we!?" The crowd gives a cheer.

"What's there to know? Like you said all I am is muscle," I am sure to turn the attention to my bicep which I flex as Caliper told me to do, show off my physique, "and charm. The people of the Capitol, they are so fascinating that I want to know all of them and maybe find that special one."

"There is no one back home?" Ceaser asks as if knowing that I am lying.

"No. I just hope I can go in, win those games, and come back to impress a beautiful woman." Saying it hurts, physically and mentally. It's like someone just punched me in the gut causing pain to shoot through my body. My mind screams at me for having betrayed Markos who likely has not come to the realization that this is all just fake. Anyone from the Capitol believes whole-heartily that everything in the games is truth. I know Clauria is in the house disappointed in me for this lie.

"Oh! Do you hear that ladies? We have an eligible bachelor and even better, he could be a victor!" Ceaser smiles.

A few people scream "I love you" or else they giggle from their seats. All of them believing I am interested in them but I'm not. I'm only interested in Markos.

"So describe the perfect woman to us, who would you love to have as a wife OR lover?"

I sit, unable to answer the question, my mind is to preoccupied with a lie I thought would be so simple but wasn't. Just like the Reaping when I thought faking my emotions would be easy but I struggled with actually executing the idea. And this was the same. Believing I could lie to the entire nation in order to get sponsors but putting my love for one person on trial to do it.

"Remus?" Ceaser asks.

I'm taking too long to answer. I try to think of an answer but there is only one thing my brain can come up with to respond to the question. "I lied," I say in a mumble.

"Excuse me?" Ceaser asks.

"I lied," I say more clearly.

"Oh about what?" Ceaser gives a reassuring smile to the crowd.

"All of it...Well, I am muscular and charming, but about wanting to find the one, wanting to win and find a wife, about not having anyone back home...My heart already belongs to someone." I say.

I expect riots immediately after, to be pulled off the stage and beaten, least it is what I think I deserve. But instead, the audience replies in _aww's_ and sympathy.

"You didn't need to lie," Ceaser laughs, "We can be trusted with your secrets. Can't we?" The crowd gives nods and claps. "So," Ceaser continues, "What's this lucky girls name?"

"Guy's name," I correct him, "Boyfriend."

"Sorry," Ceaser raises his hands, "Who is the lucky guy?"

"I can't say," I choke out, feeling a flood of emotion fill my body. I want to cry from being so far, smile for finally going public with it, run away from the prying eyes of Panem.

"And why not?" Ceaser presses for answers.

"Because our love is forbidden by law. He's a peacekeeper and I'm a citizen."

The entire room is silent. You can hear a pin drop from a mile away as everyone is captivated by this simple story. I can even spot a few in the front row who wipe away tears. I can't help but think how it isn't that moving, but I can't argue about it too much since I myself struggle to hold back my emotions right now.

"A peacekeeper? We might have to have him on the show well your in the arena!" Ceaser grins. The crowd goes ecstatic about this. Some chant for him to do it well others applaud the possibility. "A Capitol citizen, risking his life to serve Panem but fallen in love with a tribute of the games." Ceaser dances in the spot like a child, "I'm so excited! Such a story!"

The crowd has now all began to chant three words over and over and over again. "Bring him on, bring him on, bring him on," they demand to see Markos, to get both sides of this romance. But I refuse to give a name. If I do die in the arena he will be punished for his actions.

Ceaser has to take a few seconds to calm down the audience, but by then my time is almost up. "Remus Kirkwood," Ceaser says triumphantly as we stand, "from District 6!"

The crowd is deafening as I step off the stage. I can't help but feel how my telling of the truth improved my odds much more than acting desirable would have. Volumnia swoops in to collect me from backstage. Petro is by her side and looks less than pleased with my win during the interviews tonight. Caliper gives me a subtle thumbs up.

"Is it true? Do you love a peacekeeper?" Volumnia asks. I nod my head. "ah! The boy in forbidden love," Volumnia screams in excitement.

I turn my attention to the rest of the interviews. Already Blaire is half way through hers, seeming bloodthirsty and ruthless. Vicuna gushes over the Capitol's culture which wins the audience over. The two from District 10 are both really friendly, even occasionally talking about each other in a positive manner. Then finally the two from 12 whom are quiet and give mediocre answers.

I can't help but get off my high that I was the best one tonight. The audience roaring for more, demanding to see the mysterious peacekeeper who is in love with a tribute, craving more. I single handily outshone everyone. Maybe whatever sponsors I lost from getting my lousy three have come back upon hearing my story. Remus Kirkwood, the boy in forbidden love.


	11. Win

It's hard to sleep, to even keep my eyes shut for more than 5 minutes. Through the window I see the bright lights of the Capitol, shades of pink, yellow, blues, they mix with the night sky. How could such a happy colourful place be the house of such horrors? How could the people who bounce around like children and talk and giggle with such joy be so bloodthirsty? Unable to contain themselves at the very mention of Hunger Games. And tomorrow, all those happy, giggling, colourful people who watch me tomorrow, waiting for me to either kill someone and spill blood or else die myself, the gorier the better. But that isn't what keeps me awake, it is the mystery. Will I die early in the games, taken out during the bloodbath? Will I last a few days but die of dehydration? Make it to the end only for the last tribute to slit my throat and claim victory? Or will I win? The questions dance around in my head and I am unable to tame them.

I slide the blankets off my body and scan the dark room before deciding to go for a walk. I expect to see Petro also awake, trying to clear her mind but she isn't here, instead, her mentor sits in the dining area. Fascia drinks from a tall glass as she looks outside from her chair, the streets outside the Training centre filled with Capitol citizens who scream their favourite tributes names or else already begin to line up to get seats at Ceaser's live coverage show of the bloodbath.

I sit at the table and for a moment the two of us don't speak, we just stare outside at the masses.

"I remember my last night before the games," Fascia's voice is raspy, "Couldn't sleep for hours."

"How do they expect you to sleep when tomorrow you will be fighting for your life," I say.

"You got to be strong," tears begin to fill Fascia's eyes and I have a feeling she isn't talking about sleeping, "For the rest of your life now. In those games, they will strip you of everything you are. Killing is a necessity in that arena but you lose parts of yourself when you do it."

"I will do whatever it takes to get back home," I say.

"But even then you have to be strong. The nightmares, the memories, constantly in your thoughts. It's like how tonight you can't sleep but instead, it's every night, every minute of the day. You have to be strong enough to endure that." Fascia looks at me with her dazed lifeless eyes, her hollow face making it look like she is already dead, like how Michelle looked on the morning of the Reaping. "I wasn't strong enough," Fascia says, "I tried but I was too weak...Too tired."

Fascia, the girl from District 6 who killed 11 people in her games, saying that she was not strong enough is a slap of reality. I never thought of what it would be like after the games. So many victors turn to drugs or alcohol to cope with the memories of the games, the shells of who they were walking around empty, no longer the person they were before. Would this happen to me if I was to win? To lose myself in these games and come out just a shell? Dripping morphling into my veins 5 times a day and laying in my bed watching as the days go by, as the world continues to turn without me. Suddenly my mind races with even more questions that I am unable to answer. Although I find Fascia's help needed, it did little to actually help with my current issue. I need to focus on winning first, then focus on what life will be like after, and to win I need to sleep otherwise I will be too tired and that could kill me as easily as a knife. Especially if it was like the Hunger Games a few years ago where the dog-like mutts would kill you if you fell asleep. The tributes were forced to stay awake for the entire duration of the game.

I give Fascia a nod and get up, leaving her to drink alone during the night. I find one of the avox's and ask for something to help me sleep. She leaves for only a moment before coming back with a strange purple liquid and a glass of water. I thank her, take the liquid, and go back to my bedroom. I can't help but think of all the District 6 tributes who have entered the games before me. The two last year who died in the bloodbath, Toben in the 70th games and his district partner who was killed when the arena flooded, the girl in the 69th games who got bit by a poisonous snake and died a violent death, the boy in the 67th games who went mad and started to eat the other tributes, the girl in the 63rd games who was beheaded. So much death. Will I join them? Just someone who dies for the Capitol, sent home in a simple wooden coffin, buried next to my brother. I feel the effects of the liquid and my mind begins to get fuzzy, before I know it I can hardly keep my eyes open.

I'm wakened by Tigris in the morning. She gives me a simple shirt and pants to wear to the arena, there I will get my arena outfit. Wouldn't want to be spoiling what the arena could be too soon. She then guides me to the elevator and we go to the roof. The hovercraft that will take us to the arena is in front of us, its hatch open to allow the tributes and stylist to enter. I remember seeing lots of hovercrafts in District 6. My friend who works on the machines told me that the Capitol special orders a new hovercraft to transport the tributes ever six years and that only the best get to be involved in the project. I wonder if my friend worked on this one. Helped create the craft that would take me to my possible death.

I enter with my stylist and take my seat. The stylists sit in a separate room well the tributes are seated in two rows of chairs that face each other. Four peacekeepers stand on each end of the room, ready to jump into the action of a fight does occur but since I have never seen a tribute enter the arena with fresh wounds I figure that a fight has never broken out will being transported to the arena. The hovercraft barely makes a sound as it lifts off from the roof and begins to journey.

I can't help but glance around at the tributes around me. Twenty-four of us all together, in a few hours we would be hunting each other down until only one of us remained. The male from District 9 sits beside me, his eyes wide and sweat dripping down his face. The girl from 5 sits across from me, her brown eyes looking down at the floor.

"Arm please," A woman asks me.

"Sorry?" I say.

She reaches down and grabs my arm. Before I have time to say or do anything she inserts a needle into my forearm and I can see a glowing object under my skin, blinking back at the nurse and me to confirm it is in place and on. She removes the needle. The tracker is so that the gamemakers know where every tribute is but it also feeds back information about the tribute. Their heart rate, blood pressure, hormones, glucose levels, everything.

No one talks during the ride. A few people glance around, some to just distract themselves well others do it to size up their prey. Who is shaking and scared, confident, bored, who is trying to intimidate? But after an hour the hovercraft lands and the hatch opens to the catacombs beneath the arena.

One by one the tributes are taken out by peacekeepers and brought to their own private launch room. There they will be able to get ready for the arena in any way that they see fit, that is also where our stylists will meet us again and see us off into the arena. When it is my turn I follow them to the room, where they open the door for me and I step in. Tigris greets me with a bow.

The room is larger than I had expected. A couch, table and chairs, bathroom area, and a clock. I will be the only one ever to use any of these items. Since they never use the arenas more than once, the launch rooms and arena become historical sites. People can go and see different areas, the spots where tributes die, try foods that the tributes had well in the arena, and take rides in the tubes that launch you into the arena.

Tigris asks if I want any food and I accept. I am a bit hungry but I eat more than my stomach was wanting. I don't know when I will see food again in the arena. I continue to drink water as well since so many tributes suffer from dehydration I want to be ahead of the game and get a few glasses down so I will be entering the arena fully hydrated. By the time I am done the arena outfit has arrived.

Tigris reveals a light outfit and I know it is either tropics, forest, or desert. There is a snug white tanktop with a loose, long-sleeved button shirt. Usually, the shirt or jacket worn in the arena is different colours for each district so that audience members can easily tell the tributes apart by district. District 6 is tomato red. Light brown cargo pants with many pockets lay baggy around my legs but I tuck the legs into my pair of shoes. They're made from soft rubber and seem designed to handle both rough terrain and water, so I hold out hope that the arena won't be too harsh. Tigris places the belt around my hips and after that the outfit is complete.

Tigris gets me to walk around and then run to make sure it is comfortable. It is and fits perfectly so we end up sitting down on the couch. I look down at the bracelet, the one Markos slipped into my hand when I was boarding the train. Two silver rings wrap around my wrist, merging at the back of the bracelet with two curved silver lines that end in solid circles near the edges of the wrist. This accessory alone could feed my family for months. It was the one token I'm allowed. Every tribute is permitted to bring one item from their district into the arena, so long as it can not be used as a weapon. The girl from District 8 last year had a wooden ball that dropped from her hands well she was standing on the pedestal and caused the mine to explode, killing her. So I figure any of the tokens are lethal under the right circumstances.

I sit on the couch rubbing my fingers along the silver well Tigris grooms her fur coat. Although I could be killed in a matter of minutes I find myself calm. I do have the chilled sweats and a fastened heartbeat but I expected more emotion, more panic, and terror. Instead, I sit in silence with Tigris playing with the token Markos gave me.

I wonder what Clauria and my sisters are doing. The broadcast has already started, Ceaser welcoming the nation to the Hunger Games. But are they nervous, filled with anticipation? Maybe they went to the square to watch it live and are with Markos. Unless the Capitol has already found out who the secret peacekeeper who broke the rules is. But he is safe, for now, they will be unable to punish him in any way since the Capitol is drooling to meet him. If they did find out who he was he is likely on a train to the Capitol right now to be interviewed by Ceaser. But the probability of him being discovered is quite high since he is a Capitol citizen and most likely leap at the chance to be interviewed by Ceaser and comment on me during the games.

"40 seconds," A female voice rings through the room, signaling that I need to get into the tube that will carry me into the arena.

I take a deep breath, more feelings rushing in as I get to my feet. My hands shake, I find it harder to breathe, but Tigris gives me a hug and it sort of calms me down. She walks me to the tube and for a moment I just stare at it. This could be the very thing that carries me up to my death. I work up the courage to step on to the plate and the glass begins to lower around me.

Tigris stands in front of me. "Win," She says just before the glass tube encloses around me.

I give her a nod and she smiles. Then I am being lifted up into the arena. For a few seconds, it goes dark as I travel through the dirt but then I can feel a breeze brush through my hair, then along my face ad the rest of my body. I can hardly see around me from the sun but I can hear the voice, the voice of Claudius Templesmith, one of the hosts of the games.

"Let the 72nd Annual Hunger Games begin!"


	12. Bloodbath

The low _baam_ of the countdown begins, with each change of the number there is a beat. For 1 minute we are expected to stand on our metal plates. If you step off too soon then land mines will explode and kill you. A fate I have seen too many times in the games. The lucky ones die instantly if not in a few seconds after the blast but there is a few who survive, have their legs blown off and are left screaming in agony until they either bleed to death or a tribute kills them. I be sure to firmly plant my feet so that fate doesn't happen to me.

The cornucopia, silver in colour, lays about 50 yards in front of me. All twenty-four tributes line in a semi-circle around the mouth of the horn. Within it is a bounty of supplies, weapons, food, water, rope, and other survival needs that will help us win the games. The bounty lays within the horn with a few items stretching out maybe 5 or 10 yards from the cornucopia. This is dangerous. I had hoped to pick up some stray items that usually are only feet from the pedestals the tributes stand on, but this year they wanted a show. To get supplies I will need to get dangerously close to the other tributes, no scavenging the outskirts this year, you will have to fight for supplies.

I scan the area around us. We stand in a large sandy area with a lake behind the cornucopia. The waves splashing up against the beach is almost hypnotizing. On both sides and behind me is a dense jungle, I can hardly see more than a few feet within it. It's good, means staying hidden this year will be a breeze.

I look at the countdown, the numbers flashing at the entrance of the cornucopia. 30...29...28...27.

I already know I want to run to collect supplies. The water could be saltwater and if that is the case I'd be dead within four days, if not sooner. I could make a weapon in the jungle but it would be flimsy and would be lucky to stand up against the hard steel weapons in the cornucopia. There is no way I am fleeing, no, I am going for as much as I can carry and then run. Maybe I will be overlooked. Others will want to take out the stronger tributes well they have a chance, and after my performances in the Capitol, no one will be thinking I am strong.

I glance around at the tributes. I stand between the female from 3 and the male from 11. On the other side of the semi-circle is Petro. She eyes the bounty of supplies and I know she will be going for them as well.

I look at the countdown. 11...10...9...8.

I brace my feet to kick off from the pedestal. Lean my body forward to get ready to run. Then I hear it, the sound of the gong releasing us from the metal plates. I don't hesitate and immediately leap off the pedestal, hit the ground running. My feet move as fast as I can force them. I'm already panting but more so from the nerves and fear of the games rather than being tired of running. So many of the other tributes have begun to dash for the cornucopia but I can see already someone has reached the cornucopia, yea the girl from District 4. She's opening one of the crates to see what is inside. This doesn't give me second thoughts if anything I run faster.

I reach the first items and quickly lean down to grab a backpack, yanking it off the ground as I run past. I sling it over my shoulders and continue traveling deeper. From the corner of my eye, I can see tributes already starting to fight, some wrestling over supplies well others battle with swords and maces.

I reach the inside of the cornucopia and instantly spot a long spear, sitting on one of the crates. I lunge for the handle but someone already grabs the other end and sends the handle of the spear into my gut. I feel pain shoot through my body as I collapse to the ground and look up. It's the girl from 12. She raises the spear and sends the head down at me but I quickly roll to the right, the spear jabbing into the sandy ground of the cornucopia. She lifts it up and I see her get ready to strike again but before she can the male from 2 slams into her, knocking her to the ground. I look to make sure he doesn't come for me, he moves towards the female and I crawl away from view. I hear the female scream for help, her agonizing cries echoing in the metal walls of the cornucopia but I don't dare look back or stop. Instead, I spot an axe leaning against another crate and snatch it.

I still hear the District 12's cries so I know the career is still busy, a few enter the cornucopia but no one I am threatened by, just young tributes who are more focused on gathering supplies rather than fighting. I see rope on the wall and grab it, stuffing it into my backpack before snatching a knife and machete. I give myself 5 seconds to place the knife on my belt along with the axe. I keep my grip on the machete though, ready to swing at a moments notice.

I see a crate and unlock the hatches, throwing it open to see piles of food. Everything from apples to dried salmon lay ready for the taking. I reach in and grab a handful but see someone else reach for the bounty of supplies. A younger tribute, maybe 13 in age, can't remember what district he was from. He ignores me and stays focused on the food so I don't bother running or attacking, instead I open my backpack.

BANG!

I feel liquid splatter onto my face and neck and look up to see the young tribute's head has been smashed open. His body slides to the ground. I stumble back, wipe my face and feel his blood smear against my skin. I look up, the girl from 1, she's holding a mace and her eyes look at me. I'm her next target!

I rush to escape the cornucopia. My heart pounding, the copper smell of blood filling my nostrils, I need out now! Just as I exit the cornucopia I hit someone. My instinct takes over, fight or flight...Fight! I don't look but only scream and slash with my machete, feeling it jerk as it digs into someone. My eyes clenched shut I hear the gurgling sound of someone trying to breathe. I open and see a man, his blue eyes looking into mine, his face is shocked. My machete digs deep into his shoulder, so deep that it grazes his neck. I stare into his eyes. I want to save him but I can't.

"I'm sorry," I choke out, "I'm so sorry."

I stumble away, leaving the machete in his body as he drops to the ground. My body shakes and I can't stop it. I look around and already multiple people lay dead but the bloodbath shows no signs of letting up. I take a step forward, my brain trying to think of what to do. I take another step.

Suddenly someone smashes into me, we both hit the ground. The person is laying on my legs but they aren't attacking me, they are defending themselves against an attack. I scurry out from under him and stumble to my feet. I run, I don't look where but I run and I don't stop. I hit the tree line and continue straight. The branches and vines slash at my body and clothes but I don't stop. I keep running. I can't stop running. I am driven by fear, the man's blue eyes flashing in my head, the girl from 12's pleads for help, the young boy who had his head bashed open, they keep flashing in my head. I can't stop.

I run full speed until I am hardly able to stand. I gasp for air as my head feels light and my ears ring continuously. My legs are in pain and my lungs demand oxygen. I take deep breaths as I look around. I'm breathing too fast, too hard, I'm hyperventilating. I grab onto one of the trees and lower myself down onto the ground. I take a deep breath and hold it before I release and take another deep breath. _It's okay. You are alive. You're alive._ It takes me 30 minutes to finally calm down. My head still feels light but the ringing in my ears stops.

I go to slide my backpack off when I feel a sharp pain in my shoulder. I grab it but it only hurts more. I pull my hand away and see blood. A large gash lays deep in my upper bicep, letting blood pour out and soak into my shirt. But when was I cut? When the 12 female tried to hit me with the spear? Maybe the male that I ran into got me. I stick to that idea since it makes me feel slightly better about his death. I remove the strap from my good arm and slowly lower it off my bad one. I work the button shirt off my right arm, already it lays soaked with blood and drips down onto my right hand. I want to stay here and bandage myself up, take a break, maybe have a drink of water if I got some in my bag but I know I am still too close to the cornucopia. I use my button shirt as a bandage and tie it around the wound before throwing the backpack over my left shoulder and continue moving.

Walking is agony with my arm so I resort to leaving it to hang to my side as my left arm does all the work. I occasionally stop to see if anyone is following, to hear any signs of a tribute, but nothing makes an appearance. Maybe I am being stocked.

I reach a clearing. Maybe 30 or 40 yards long, enclosed by the trees. Moss covers every inch of the ground. Finally! A break. I pick the moss off the ground and shove it under my makeshift bandage. By the time I grab another hand full the blood has stopped dripping down my arm and now absorbed into the green material. I shove more moss in my pocket to be safe since I haven't seen any moss till now.

BOOM!

I leap at the sound. Rip my axe free from my belt and ready to swing. A cannon. It's a cannon. The bloodbath must have ended and the bodies of the deceased collected. Each cannon represents one of the dead tributes. I hope for a lot since it will mean less competition in the days to come. Some games lose more than half the tributes on the first day, those ones usually only last a week at most. Two...Four...I begin to count the cannons...Five...Six...Eight...Nine...Nine. Nine cannons fire. Nine tributes dead within the first few minutes of the games. I was hoping for more.

I make my way out of the clearing trying to look as strong as I can. Now that the bloodbath has ended and been recapped I know they will be showing all the living tributes, even for a minute, just to show that they are alive and what condition they are in. Mine not so good. I feel tired from the blood loss, pain shooting up my shoulder with the rest of my arm feeling numb. I keep moving though to show that I can take a hit without slowing down. By the time I reach a waterfall the sun is setting. I figure this is a good time to bandage my wound better and see what supplies I have in my bag. It has to be good since I grabbed it so close to the cornucopia.

I lost the machete and the handful of food during the bloodbath but escaped with a bag, axe, rope, and the knife. I open the bag and begin to go through my supplies. Matches, tarp, a lantern, Two full bottles of water, raisins, some dried fish, and then I see it, the bright red of a first aid kit. I rip it out of the bag and open it. Bandages, tweezers, gloves, painkillers, creams, everything lays perfectly assembled within it.

I remove the shirt and moss, placing it in the water to clean, already the water around it is tinted red. The gash in my arm is five inches wide and maybe a half an inch deep, it's hard to tell with all the blood. The first aid kit has no suture materials so I get to work on making my own. I cut off an inch of the rope and untangle it, using the knife to shave off tiny threads of the material. There are pins in the first aid kit so I break the long metal point off and use one of the matches to begin to heat the metal, lacing the thin rope around it and let it cool so that the rope sticks to the metal. Actually stitching the wound shut is much more painful than I thought. The flesh around it is tender. Every time I send the needle into my skin it sends sharp pain through my body. I bite my lip and push it through, pulling the string through and then do it again, push pin through, pull rope, push pin through, pull rope. Within a minute it is full stitched up and tied off. I rub a cream on it and the pain is instantly gone, so much so that I can actually move my arm around without hurting. I place a bandage around it and it is dressed.

I drink one of my water bottles and fill it up in the waterfall. I take the time to place my face in the running water, the blood from the young boy comes off easily. By then my shirt has soaked enough for the blood to come off and I ring the water out before placing it back on. I grab the moss and continue moving. A watering hole is a beacon for other tributes and if I go to sleep here I would likely wake up to the careers standing over me.

I make my way back into the jungle, by now the sky is dark and the sounds of nightlife echo around me. It makes my hair stand up as I can only imagine the creatures that prowl around in the night. So many times in the games the gamemakers have released mutts that stalk and attack tributes throughout the game. It's rare for them to release mutts on the first day since so much action ensues. So I brush the thought that I could be followed by a mutt off my shoulder.

I reach another clearing and it is spectacular. I stand on another beach but in front of me is a vast ocean. The waves glimmer a bright aqua blue, the entire ocean emits the glow. Why the gamemakers would make this water shimmer in the night is a mystery to me. I dip my toe into the shallow waves but nothing happens. Above the glowing waters is a palm tree that leans. I decide this is as good of a place as any to sleep since if the careers do come for me I could dive into the waters and swim away. I crawl along the trunk of the palm and lay down, wrapping my rope around my waist to ensure that I don't slip into the water in my sleep. The bag makes a good pillow as well.

The anthem play as the Capitol seal appears in the night sky. Every night they show the faces of those who have died that day so the tributes know how many are left or who is left. I watch carefully, wondering if Petro has made it past the first day. Both the tributes from District 3 are shown, their thin frame and ashen skin. The male from 5. I recognize him, he is the one I killed. the male from 8...That's the young boy whose blood I washed from my face just an hour ago. The male from 9, the male from 10, the female from 11, and then both from District 12. The music ends and the sky goes dark again.

So Petro did make it past the first day. I'm glad since if she wins then District 6 will get a year of supplies. All the careers also made it past the first day, no surprise there, Blaire is alive and likely with the careers. Vicuna is alive as well, I'm surprised she made it since she seemed so oblivious to the games. Then the girl from 10. I could imagine she is crying right now, her and her district partner seemed extremely close, they spent so much time together, and now he is gone.

I curl up against the tree. It is hard to sleep, knowing you are being hunted, but I can feel my eyes getting heavy. I hug my backpack and slowly drift off.


	13. 14

BOOM!

The sound of the cannon sends my heart into a panic. My nerves zap as my brain sends a message throughout my body, move. I jump but the rope around my waist yanks me back down and I slide off the side and hang directly below the palm tree, only kept into place by the rope.

The shark emerges from the water below me, it's snout breaking the water but followed by its massive jaws and blackened eyes. A great white the size of a door. A mutt. It's sharp teeth just graze my body as it snaps its mouth shut and falls back into the water. I can't help the scream emit from my lips as I grasp the trunk of the tree behind my, trying to flatten my body against the bark. I can see them, the sharks, hundreds if not thousands of them within the waters. All the same size as the one that snapped at me. Another jumps from the water and tries to bite into me. I press myself against the tree and hear its teeth brush together as it closes its mouth, the splash of the water as it falls back into its realm.

I wrap my arm around the tree and tug myself around it, I hang on the side for a moment, catching my breath before pulling myself up. My breath is heavy as I look down at the water, the eerie blue glow that illuminates the many sharks below begins to fade back to natural water colour as the sun rises. I gather my things and leave the palm tree.

So that was the secret of the ocean. I knew from how it glowed at night something was dangerous about it, didn't expect sharks. I figure they glow at night to attract tributes like a moth to a flame. Maybe the older tributes like myself would be more cautious but tributes who are 12 or 13 might see the glow and rush to it, only to be attacked and killed by the many sharks.

I lay on the beach and have a few sips of my water. The blood loss I suffered yesterday still, has me weak. I'm light headed, dizzy, and my muscles in my arms ache from the little work they had to do when I fell off the palm tree. I decide to eat my entire supply of raisins and some water to help my body in the process of resupplying the blood in my body. I know though that I will have to find more water and food today! I have at most another day or two of supplies to survive on, then I will be starving and thirsty and make for an easy target.

I look at the sun which grazes the ocean but rises fast. _Final 15_ The thought pops in my mind, _no, final 14!_ Yes the final 14, I forgot about the cannon that fired just a few minutes ago, the one that scared me and caused me to fall off the tree. So 13 more tributes need to die for me to go home. Hopefully, it goes by fast.

I redress my wound with fresh bandages and pack up my belongings in the backpack. I decide it will be best to make my way back to the waterfall where I stopped at yesterday. I would be able to refill my water and there is the possibility of fish within the small lake the water pours into. I make my way through the thick jungle, hearing the sounds of monkeys, insects, and the occasional roar of a large predator. I figure by the sound it must be ways away and poses no threat to me so I continue to move. Within the hour I make it back to the waterfall. I scan the opening for any signs of tributes but no one makes an appearance so I hurry to the water and fill my bottle. I see small fish in the water but after five failed attempts at catching one, I resort to harvesting the pond lilies. There is a strange purple fruit that grows by the lake as well but I have never seen the fruit before, not even in the Capitol, so I decide against harvesting it.

I spend the day gathering as much food as I can. I find an avocado tree and gather seven of the fruit, there is more on the tree but the branches become too long and thin to support my body weight so I scurry back down. There is also an orange tree not far from the waterfall but it is the first sign I am competing with other animals for the fruit. Most of the oranges have been torn open by birds or other creatures and I am only able to find two that have been left untouched.

I place the oranges in my bag when I hear it, the twig snap. The simple sound sends me diving behind a bush, I grip my axe but have my feet ready to run if there is a threat that requires me to run. But it isn't. It's the female from 10. She stumbles towards the waterfall. Her hands grasp at her side which spew blood well her legs seem cut up and bruised, a long gash along her forearm but it must've not been too deep as scabs have already begun to form and stop the bleeding. But she didn't get those wounds without putting up a fight, from the blood that has dried on her pale skin and pigtail buns I figure she has slashed someone, if not was the one responsible for the death this morning.

The 10 female cups her hands and brings water up to her mouth, sipping it up. After a few handfuls, she walks into the water, letting the blood and grime wash off. I have the thought to approach her, offer her help in the form of my first aid kit, but from the looks of her she is in this game to kill, she isn't afraid of it. Even though she is wounded she could kill me in my sleep or when my guard is down. The thought of killing her is off-putting. I don't want to take someone's life because I have the chance. I did that with the District 5 male and his face haunted my dreams all night, I don't need the female from 10 there as well. So I watch her as she washes herself, gathers a few edible plants around the lake, then vanishes into the trees.

I scurry away as quietly as I can. The trip that took me an hour this morning now takes me three as I walk so softly and slowly to not make a sound and stop every few seconds to listen for any followers. By nightfall, I reach my beach with the palm tree, the ocean going back to its bright blue glow. I drink an entire bottle of water and have 1 of my oranges along with 2 avocados. It isn't a Capitol-worthy meal but I have watched the games all my life and usually, tributes are resorting to eating leaves or bark in order to fill their bellies, so I figure I'm doing quite well so far.

I go back to the palm tree, fastening myself against it with the rope. Though it is hard to fall asleep knowing there is an army of tribute hungry sharks below me, I know they are also a good defense. There is only one route a tribute can take to get to me and I can easily knock them off the palm tree with my axe, leave them for the sharks to finish off.

The anthem plays and the male from District 11 is shown. He was the one that died so early this morning. I wonder how. That's when I hear it, the pairs of feet, the light shine through the jungle, the career pack.


	14. Waterfalls

speed. After an hour of running, I stop. _30 seconds that's it!_ I grab my knees as I lean forward. My head is hurting. I gasp for air and begin to dry heave, I feel a bit of bile rush up my throat but force it back down. Food is precious in the arena and I will be damned if I puke up anything. Sweat drips from my forehead. I have to be close to the waterfall, I can hear the water. I must have gotten lost at some point, it takes an hour to walk to the falls, so an hour of running makes no sense. I look back and see the careers are narrowing it, their laughter and hollers have ceased, their only sign of tiring out. Is this what they do to other tributes?Chase them down until the tribute can no longer run and then they share the kill? I have seen in past games the careers use many different tactics. Some wait at the cornucopia for others to appear, some take tributes by surprise so they have no chance to run, some ambush the tributes, but this year they seem to be impatient. Ambushing and waiting are too dull for this batch, they want to hunt and chase.

I continue moving after my short break. What was once dodging vines and branches has now turned into pushing my way through, I'm too tired to try and maneuver my way through the obstacles. After another few minutes, I burst into a clearing. The waterfall takes on a creepy feel at night. The plants around it looking like blackened statues with dark water rushing down a cliff into a lake, only the high points reflect the moonlight that shines down on the arena. I hurry towards the water, splashing through the lake so the careers can hear and think I have followed the river. I move to go towards the tree line but it is too late, I can hear them close, too close. I panic for a moment, my eyes looking in every direction. _The waterfall!_ I slam myself through the waterfall, I hit the rocky edge on the other side of the pouring water and press myself against it. Hopefully being behind the falling water along with the darkness, it will be enough to conceal me. If it isn't then I could be dead right here and right now.

I see the lights grow larger until they are in the clearing. All six careers and Blaire, the female from 7, stand only feet from me. They scan the area.

"Where did he go?" Amethyst asks.

"I told you, I heard water," The male from 2 says.

"There's a waterfall," Dazzle snaps back.

"I heard him running in the water!" the male from 2 yells.

"How can you know that!?" Dazzle glares at the male from 2.

"Marius enough." Herminia steps in front of the male from 2. Marius I guess is his name.

I hold my breath, even though the sound of the water would drown out my breathing, I am too afraid that I could make a loud enough noise to be heard. My lungs don't like this action though as they feel in worse pain, demanding air for my muscles that are strained from running.

"The lake," Blaire looks toward the river, "It feeds off into a river."

"Could he have gone down there?" Dazzle asks.

"Could be the reason there are no tracks around here," Blaire answers.

"Told you I heard him in water," Marius adds.

Blaire moves first, following the river away from here. The rest of the career pack follows. I give it another few seconds and then let out a breath of air. I stay behind the waterfall for 10 or so minutes to be sure they are gone and then slowly emerge out into the open air. I listen for a few seconds but only hear the night creatures. I'm safe. I step out of the lake and sit on a fallen log to catch my breath. Well, I am at the waterfall I fill my empty bottle of water, drink the entire thing, then refill it again. By then it is time to move.

I secure the backpack to my shoulders and begin to move back to the beach, taking my time not to make any noise like I did when I had a run in with the 10 female. Every time I step and make even the slightest noise I stop for 5 minutes to be sure there is no one who is going to pounce out at me. I know this isn't smart because the Capitol will be showing me on and off, probably alternating between the careers and me after our run in, and sponsors will be seeing me move so slowly and cautious away from the fight that they will want to pull out. But I don't care, it makes me feel safer going slowly.

By the time the sun begins to rise I reach my beach. I'll rest here for a few hours and then move along the beach. I figure if the ocean is full of sharks most tributes will be steering clear of the beach, those that don't run a risk of being torn apart. Plus it provides no concealment so it will be easy to walk along and have no fear of running into a tribute.

I change my bandages again, eat my last orange and some of the dried fish along with some sips of water. I remember over half of the victors from District 6 used mud, leaves, and berry juices to conceal themselves into their surroundings. Maybe when I get out of this area I'll do that, hide for a few days until there are fewer tributes around. I have enough food and water to get me through two days of it and it wouldn't be the worst way to spend time in the arena.

I close the cap to my water bottle when I feel it, someone grabs onto me and slams me down to the ground, the tribute falls on top of me. I go to scurry away but he grabs me and yanks me towards him, leaping on top of me. Dazzle's eyes full of anger as he wraps his hands around my throat and begins to squeeze. My head immediately begins to hurt and the pain spreads down to my neck and chest. I clench my fist and drive it into his face, knocking him off me.

I scramble to my feet, without thinking I run up the trunk of the palm tree, cornering myself. Dazzle laughs as he stands at the other end of the tree, he grips a long spear. There is no way for me to go. I am at the edge of the tree, I can't dive into the water, and if I want to get to the jungle I will have to go through Dazzle. I pull my axe out from my belt and get ready to fight.

Dazzle inches along the tree, getting closer with every step. I hold my ground hoping to get the first shot. He is career though and getting a hit on him will be hard and judging by the excitement in his eyes I can tell he is wanting me to fight back to make this kill more interesting.

I can feel the cameras around us, all broadcasting this live. My family watching me, gripping their hands together as they hope for me to live, as they scream for Dazzle's death. But at the same time, Dazzle's family screams for my death. One of which will get their wish.

Dazzle lunges first, his spear is thrust towards my chest and I lean to the right. My footing slips and I almost plummet down into the water but step on a coconut and catch myself before I fall. He lunges with his spear again but I swing my axe, slamming it into his spear and sending it out of his hands and into the ocean. NOW! I lunge forward and slash at him with my axe, he stumbles back, dodging the attack but I don't stop. I send the axe down on him again, this time it cuts into his forearm.

"Aa!" Dazzle yelps as he looks at his gash.

I swing the axe again but he grabs the handle, just below the head of the axe. He yanks it and it flies from my hands, crashing onto the beach behind Dazzle. Before I can react he tackles me again, my back slamming into the tree as he shoves his knees into my biceps, pinning my arms down. Dazzle pulls a dagger from his belt and with such speed sends the blade into my shoulder.

My body is grasped in pain. I feel as if my shoulder is on fire but I am unable to put it out, the wetness of the blood that pours out doing little to cure the sensation. I let out a scream and try to move my arms but Dazzle pushes his knees harder into my arms to keep me down. It hurts, it hurts so bad, I have only experienced this kind of pain once before.

It was the night I got beaten by addicts who thought I had morphling. I was leaving my shift at the hub, the night concealed the addicts and the rain dropping onto the muddy ground concealed their footsteps. Before I knew it I was grabbed from behind and thrown against a wall as multiple fists slammed into my body over and over. I couldn't stay on my feet and the world kept spinning so I dropped down. Once they had found no morphling on me they proceeded to kick and stomp on my body. Each kick causing a new bruise to form, causing more agony.

I wanted to die right there and then. The freezing rain took any body heat I had well the welts, bruises, and cuts radiated with pain. I not only wanted to die but I was dying. I could feel my breath become shallow and I was loosing feeling in my legs and arms.

I don't know when Markos found me, maybe an hour after I got beat? He lifted me up and carried me back into the empty hub. I thought he was going to kill me. I heard stories of groups of peacekeepers who find "thieves" and beat them till they're dead. Guess it was to cure boredom after weeks of standing and watching people work or go about their daily lives. So I laid on the table and prepared for a further beating but he didn't injure me, he helped me.

Grabbed the first aid kit and began to seal the cuts I had throughout my body. Somehow he found blankets, I figure from the peacekeeper's lounge, and placed them over me. But I could still feel myself get colder, that's when he pulled my clothes off, wet with the freezing rain, so cold that ice was forming on the edges of my shirt and pants. Then he took off his alien-like suit and shirt and laid under the blankets with me. It was a tactic the poor used so often in District 6. When everything was wet, cold, and people were freezing. We would huddle together with as little clothing as possible to share our body heat and stay warm. Usually fires would keep us warm but when rain poured so hard it washed down your chimney it was impossible to safely have a fire. And here I was on a table, wrapped in a blanket, beaten within a inch of my life, and a peacekeeper – someone who we grew up fearing – was laying against me in order to share body heat and keep me alive. An he did do just that. I wonder if he is watching now. Maybe he is off duty and sleeping in, Capitol people seem to always sleep in, but they will show recaps of my death throughout the day so if he is sleeping now he will see me die no matter what. Clauria will see me die, mom will, Michelle will.

I feel his blade cut along my chest, grazing down to my upper stomach. The suffering I was feeling just seconds ago is now doubled. I look for a way out, a way to escape but there is none. I can't grab him or punch him, my axe is on the beach, and the knife is attached to my ankle, something I can't reach right now. That's when I remember. _The arrow._

"You know," Dazzle smiles, "When I was being told about these games, spending my life getting ready for it."

That's right, keep talking. Keep distracting yourself. I reach for the arrow that is tucked under my belt safely. Slowly working it out from under the material.

"I didn't think it would be this fun," Dazzle says, "I didn't think killing would be this fun!"

He raises his knife to finish the final blow but I foil his plans. I send the arrow through his thigh, pushing it as deep as I can from my awkward position. It's deep enough as Dazzle screams in pain, letting go of his knife and lifting his leg off my left arm. I raise my arm, the wound in my shoulder stings but I fight through it, grab Dazzle by the neck, and throw him off me, right into the ocean.

There is a splash as he submerges in the liquid. He surfaces, only for a moment, before being pulled back under the waves by the sharks. He screams as the cluster of sharks moves in, their teeth ripping his flesh from bone. Dazzle is tossed throughout the water like a doll as multiple sharks fight for their chance at his meat, water splashes in every direction as a mixture of limbs, fins, and blood emerge from the waves. Dazzle surfaces again, crying as he reaches for the palm tree but then his head cocks back as blood gushes from his lips and he is pulled underwater.

BOOM!

I take a shaky breath as I see the red water below me. The sharks leave Dazzle's body at the sound of the cannon, must be programmed to do that so the Capitol has something to send back to his family. I am left staring at a disfigured body of a once handsome male. It floats in a mangled mess as flesh and organs drift around him.

I need to move. The rest of the careers will be coming this way. I race down the palm tree but the second I reach the sand Herminia emerges from the jungle, sword in hand. I react faster than she does and send my fist into her head, the glasses shattering as shards of glass stab into her eye. She lets out a wail as she falls to the ground, gripping her damaged eye.

I scoop up my bag, axe, and rip Herminia's bag from her shoulder, the girl providing no resistance, more focused on her injury. I throw the bags on my shoulder and run into the jungle. I don't keep track of the direction I move, I just move. The adrenaline being enough to hold back the pain of the injuries I endured from Dazzle's attack. _Snap! Snap!_ I hear the twigs, the footsteps! I'm being chased again. I burst through the trees and end up at another river, different from the one I was at late last night. I go running along it but only get about 10 yards before I reach a large cliff, the water runs down and pours into raging rapids below. Turn back and go back to the trees! I turn but I can't move, the career pack has already cornered me, their weapons drawn.

"Where's Dazzle?" Marco says.

"He killed him," Herminia growls with newfound vengeance. Her left eye is swollen with shards of glass hanging in her face. She moves towards me, her sword ready to kill. I can't fight, I'm injured and there is too many of them. There is only one option. I lean backward and clench my eyes shut, feeling my body become weightless as I drop off the cliff and slam into the water below.


	15. Lazing around

When I open my eyes I wish I was still asleep. My head pulsates and I can feel the huge welt on te right side of my head. It takes me awhile to remember what happened that caused the welt but after a few seconds, I recall it. How I surfaced and struggled to get to shore than was thrown into a boulder by the current and smacked my head, then everything went dark.

Where am I now? I look around. My body lays on the edge of a much calmer river, small pebbles and rocks lay a few feet in front of me before the forest line. I slide my hands under me and go to press myself up but pain shoots throughout my body, I let out a yelp, and then drop back down. My wounds, I forgot about them, but I can't sit here all day. I reach to the ground in front of me, digging my hands into the rocky surface and then begin to tug my body along. The rocks dig into the wounds on my chest and shoulders but I fight through it as best as I can.

How have I not died yet is a mystery to me. The blood loss must have been tremendous during my time laying on the river bank. I can even feel myself weaker than usual, my joints stiff, my head aching from the low blood that goes through my body. So many times I have seen tributes bleed to death, never thought I could die from it. And what luck. Day 3 and I am struggling to stay alive. This is the day my brother, Toben, died as well. Judging by the way the sun sets I'd say I'm close to the time he was murdered in his games. The Capitol would have a field day with that one, two brothers who died on the same day in their games at the same time. Only he was strangled and I am dying by wounds inflicted by a dead tribute.

But I'm not going to die. This family won't lose another member of their family to these games, and not on the third day again. I dig my hands down again and pull my body along, gritting my teeth together to fight through the pain. _Again!_ My mind screams and I pull. _Again!...Again!...Again!_ I reach the forest line and prop myself up against a tree.

I slide the two backpacks off my shoulders, wait two? I almost forgot about the bag I grabbed from Herminia well she was on the ground after I cut her eye. I grab her bag, a large black backpack that is sure to have good items. Some more rope, a sleeping bag, two more bottles of water but one is half empty, Some nuts, beef jerky, flashlight, a knife, wire, and a photo...A photo of her and her family.

Two young males hold their arms around her, probably her brothers, well her mom and dad, two very tall and mean looking people, stand behind them. It's a weird feeling, seeing the family of the person you know has to die if you want to live. These people, right here in this picture, sit watching the screen, screaming for me to die as I slammed my fist into her head and took out one of her eyes. I can't help but feel slightly sympathetic. I fold the photo and slip it into my pocket.

I slip my supplies into Herminia's bag since it is large enough to hold everything, then pull out my first aid kit. Clean around the two wounds first. The one in my shoulder is deep and I worry it may be too deep. The gash that stretches along my chest and down to my upper stomach is not as deep, though, it has already begun to scab over. I place the cream on it, feeling the pain subside, then bandage it up. I use my homemade suture kit to do the best stitch job I can on my inner shoulder but I don't know how well it will hold up. I bandage it also and pop the last of my pain medicine.

I don't dare move my body but I gather twigs, leaves, and even a few ferns within arms reach and pile them around me. I remember a District 6 female used bark and mud to blend in with a tree so I try to recreate her look as best as I remember. I smear mud all throughout my body and stick bark pieces in the mud to help me blend in. It is sloppy but enough so that a tribute just walking by would be oblivious to me.

I have a feast to help my body heal itself after a long day. I drink two of the bottles of water, have the last of my dried fish and 3 avocados. I lay down with a full belly as I watch the sky light up with the Capitol seal and the anthem. The District 1 male is shown in the sky and then it goes dark.

I sleep well that night, after 2 nights of no sleep my body takes the chance to get as many hours as rest as it can. I don't wake up till late morning, the sun already high in the sky, the monkeys and birds continuing their calls.

I reach up and pull a large stick from the tree, removing the smaller branches until I'm left with a walking stick. I make my way back to the river, fill up my bottles, then head back to my tree and redress myself in a fresh coat of mud and bark then leaves. The rest of the day I go in and out of sleep, sipping water and eating the last 2 avocados. By the time I wake up again the anthem is playing but there are no deaths. I fall asleep again.

When I wake up in the early morning I am terrified. The massive scales along the long body that slithers to the lake. In front of me is a snake that is a 90-foot snake, it's body as thick as a car, it's head the size of my body. A mutt.


	16. The worst 5 days

I feel my body tense up with fear. Even if I wanted to move I can't, my body refuses to even lift a finger let along a limb. I lay against the tree as I watch the massive beast of an animal dip its head into the water and begin to slurp up gallons of water. Once the snake has finished it lifts it's head up, opening its mouth revealing the two long fangs. The pair of teeth stretch out of its mouth before curling back in its upper jaw and the snake closes its mouth.

Have mutts like this one been lingering around the arena this entire time? I have only been on the beach, venturing into the jungle when I had to, but the beach had sharks. Maybe staying on the sand gave me refuge from creatures like the one in front of me. I can't help but wonder what else lurks in the woods. Massive monkeys, spiders the size of trains, birds with the craving for flesh. Maybe not that one, there was a mutt in the Sixty-seventh games, a flock of birds that would devour tributes alive. I remember it like it was yesterday because I had nightmares of the birds flying into the house and eating me alive.

The sound of the snake's body dragging against the ground sends shivers up my spine. I could reach out and touch it right now, but that would be a death wish. There is no way a tribute could kill this mutt, maybe a pack of tributes could somehow take it down but not without losing a few in the process. I stay camouflaged against the tree as I watch the snake spread itself out on the rocks, absorbing the heat of the sun.

It has no clue I am here. The trees blocked me from its site and the mud has likely masked my scent from its eerie forked tongue. Maybe it smelt the blood smeared on the ground from when I dragged myself to the tree and that is what caused it to come my way, but that is just a guess. For now, I am thankful I am safe and I owe it to a dead girl from my district who was in the games just a few years ago. I would have just covered myself in leaves and branches and call that camouflage but I remember her games and how she used mud and bark and here I am alive because of it.

Well sitting just feet from the largest mutt I have ever seen in the games I have come to the conclusion that I have had the most difficult five days in the arena than any other tribute. I wonder if the gamemakers are just toying with me or maybe there is a poll in the Capitol of who they want to see endure the next twist or mutt. Stuff like that has happened, it's only in a handful of games but they open polls for what they want the Capitol to see. Clauria would always get disgusted when they would ask who the people wanted to see chased by fire, a mutt, or a landslide.

Close to an hour, maybe two, of waiting for the snake to move I realize it must be sleeping. The eyes, however, remain open. The one eye that faces me stares right in my direction, its pupil reflecting back my image. I need to move now. There are clouds moving in that suggest rain is on the way and if I am still sitting here when the rain falls the mud will be washed off me and the snake will be able to smell me and attack.

I slowly begin to remove the leaves and branches from my body, lancing back at the snake to make sure it doesn't move. I slide the button shirt into my mouth to block out the sounds of my whining from the pain as I use the tree to work my way up. I carefully slide the backpack onto my shoulders and step back from the spot I stayed for the past day. I wish I had the time to cover the spot since an imprint of my body has been molded into the mud by the tree and any tribute can see I was here but I decide against spending any more time then needed here.

I step slowly towards the jungle, then another, then another. _Crk!_ Two dry leaves let out a crunching sound as I apply my weight. I can feel my heart stop and I hold my breath as I slowly turn back towards the snake.

It takes everything I have to not break out into a run. The snake has wakened and now faces me. It's head only 10 or so feet away as it's long tongue slides from its mouth, flicks in the air, then slides back in. I stand, motionless, holding my breath as it moves closer. The snake knowing something alive is near but unable to sense me do to the mud. But I feel it, the first drop of rain, then the second, then the third. Before the minute is up the rain is coming down hard but I refuse to move. I know if I run the snake will be on me in a matter of seconds and I will be crushed, if not swallowed alive. That would be a horrible death. I feel it let out a breath of air, blowing through my hair and clothes. I whimper but luckily it is blocked out from the rain. My body shakes, my heart beats so hard I can feel it in my ears, everything in my body tells me to run, to escape right now, but running is death. I hold my ground, my eyes looking back at the scaly beast.

Suddenly the snake looks to something in the jungle. It stares for a moment before it lowers its head back to the ground and slithers away. I can't help my mouth from gaping open as I watch the body of the snake slide by me and the tail vanish into the ferns. I remain still but I can't help but cry. The tears stream down my face and I'm suddenly glad it is raining so the Capitol has no idea I'm actually crying. I don't even know why I am. Is it because I'm happy to be alive? Because I was so close to death? Because I was so terrified? The answer is a mystery. I give myself two minutes and the entire two-minute I don't move, my body is too firm to even bend my knees. But the tears pour from my eyes and I keep letting out shaky breaths that emit a louder sound than I like to admit. But after the two minutes is up I force myself to move.

At first, it is difficult, my body has been laying down for two days now plus I am still in fear of the snake but I manage to get myself going at a decent pace. It is a refreshing break, the rain. It helps wash off some of the smell I began to reek of after all this time in the arena as well as washes away the mud from my skin and clothes along with the blood stains. It is like starting anew.

I walk out of he jungle without even realizing it. I freeze the instant I feel the exposure and look to see the cornucopia in front of me with the pile of supplies, the careers sit in the mouth of the cornucopia. I dive back into the jungle and lay flat against the ground as I look through ferns to see if I have been spotted but they don't seem to have noticed. They remain seated around the mouth of the cornucopia with the bounty of supplies piled in the very back, anyone wanting to get supplies has to go through them.

But after losing my axe when I fell into the rapids I need a new weapon, something bigger than a knife. And I need anything that would help my wounds since the last of my pain medication has worn out and I am relying on applying layer after layer of cream to it in order to hold back the pain. I know there would be something in the cornucopia, something that would probably take away pain for a full twenty-four hours, but I need to get through them first. Do I just wait? They have to sleep sometime or maybe go hunting and then sneak in and gather what I can before fleeing. But what if it turns out to be a trap? Then I will be cornered again but this time have no escape route. No I need a way to move the careers out of the cornucopia and ensure they won't come back for an hour, maybe two. Searching through all the crates and backpacks for a new weapon and pain medicine will take time. The idea of attracting them over to me then looping back around is a no-go since last time I tried that I almost got killed. I need something like another tribute that they can go after...Or a mutt. What if they are the ones to be chased. Chased by a snake.

If I can get that snake here then it would go right for the careers. If they flee the snake would chase them and I'd have enough time to search the supplies. If they stay and fight then the snake would at least take out one or two of the careers and I would gladly watch that. I didn't want to kill unless I needed to but I would happily murder everyone in the career alliance and give an underdog a shot at the win. But how would I get the snake here? That's when it hits me, the blood. Maybe it was really drawn to the smell of my blood since it went right to the river and stayed on the edge, what if it was waiting for whatever left the blood to come out for it to attack. I decide to give it a shot. I will wait hour tops and if the snake hasn't come by then I will flee into the jungle and get as far from the careers as I can.

I remove the bandages from my shoulder. The wound there is deep and it is the least healed of the three injuries I have so I figure it is the smartest option to mess with this one instead of one of the other two. I take a deep breath and press a rock into the wound. The flesh is still tender and raw, what nerves are left in the wound go crazy as they send messages of pain through my body. I can feel it though, the blood, it begins to drip down the rock. I instantly throw the rock away and cup my hand against the gash, feeling blood fill it and then I throw the blood onto a nearby tree, doing this one more time to make sure it is enough for the snake to detect. After I dig a small hole in the ground, only a few inches deep and slide my body into it and cover myself with fresh mud to block out my scent. Then it is a waiting game.

The careers show no knowledge of me being here, only meters from them. I figure they are waiting for the rain to stop before going back out to hunt. How pampered are these people back in the districts? Blaire I know has struggled like anyone else from the districts but what about the careers? If they have to hide away in the cornucopia just because of rain what are their lives like back home? Do they get waited on staff and fed only the best food? I guess that is one of the careers major weaknesses. They are pampered so much that they are unable to survive in the arena without supplies and shelter. It makes sense since whenever the bounty of supplies in the cornucopia is destroyed a non-career tribute wins. Last year a herd of reptile creatures destroyed the supplies and within a few days the careers were all dead. There was another when the male from 8 burned the supplies to the ground and the careers ended up all dying from dehydration, the sponsors just got tired of constantly sending water to them after the supplies got destroyed and not long after that they began collapsing and dying. Maybe it would be smart to destroy the supplies but how? I'd rather just go in, gather what I need, then leave. Maybe another tribute will destroy the supplies if given the chance.

It must be about 40 minutes now and still no snake. Maybe I was wrong about the blood. Maybe it just wandered in my direction and I was just unlucky enough to be bleeding at the time. Then suddenly there us a rustling of leaves to my side, the sound of a bush being flattened under immense weight. I glance to my right and I see it, the light brown scales of the snake, the blackened eye, its forked tongue smelling the air. It slithers right to where I had dropped the blood and stops. For a moment I panic, is it just going to sit there and wait again? What if the careers leave and I am left stuck feet from this creature again just waiting for it to leave. But then I hear them, a career has heard the movement.

They think it is another tribute and begin to gather their weapons, grins across their faces as they move towards the jungle.

"Let's go!" Amethyst yells and that is all it takes.

The snake lets out a deep hiss, the ground vibrates from the vibration of the immense creature, and then it lunges out of the jungle. The careers go from eagerness to fear in seconds as they see what they heard, not a tribute but a mutt.

The sake lunges for Marius but he rolls out of the way, the snake slamming into the ground but it shakes it off and refocuses on the targets. The careers gather close, their weapons ready, they begin to poke and swing at the snake which lets out another deep hiss in return. For a moment it seems like they might fend it off but then the snake opens its mouth and a trail of poison shoots from its fangs. The poison splatters on Marco and he screams as I hear a sizzling sound. He holds the side of his face as he runs away. This causes the careers to disperse. Some follow Marco but others run alone in other directions. The snake only takes a moment before picking a target and chasing after Marco and Amethyst.

I emerge from the mud and grab my knife, sliding behind a tree. I will give it two minutes, after that they should be far enough away that it will be safe for me to move in and gather what I need. I glance back at the cornucopia and see the female from District 4 is running in my direction, right towards me, but she doesn't see me. No, she is running out of fear, not because she spotted a tribute. But she could easily spot me at any time and with the bow, she carries she can just shoot me within seconds and I'd be done. Plus if she stops close to the cornucopia and I run to retrieve supplies she could pick me off without getting close. No, it is too dangerous.

I grip my knife, take a deep breath, and wait. I hear her treading close, the thud as her shoes meet with the ground. Then the sudden crunch of leaves and I quickly emerge from the tree. Her eyes widen at the sight of me pouncing out right in front of her. She reaches for one of her arrows but it's too late. I slam the knife through her eye and into her brain, her feet coming out from under her and she slams into the sand. The cannon fires, signaling she is dead.

I grab her bow and use the knife to slice the string of it right in half. I have no use for the bow and it just means one less weapon that other tributes can use against me. I then take off in a dash towards the cornucopia.

I keep my eyes glancing at every angle of the tree line as I move towards the cornucopia but I lower my guard when I hear the hovercraft moving in to retrieve the female's body. It just means there is no one else nearby. All of them likely think it was the snake that picked off one of their alliance members, hopefully buying me more time. I reach the cornucopia and quickly begin to search, ripping open crates, backpacks, containers, sacks. I keep my backpack propped open to the side so when I find food or anything useful I can stuff it in the bag. I grab a handful of dried meals and throw them in, another first aid kit that's identical to the one I have, I find a spear and decide this will be my weapon, securing it to my belt. I open a container and see medical supplies, this will be wear the pain medicine is. I dig through the container, stuffing bandages, creams, antibacterial wipes, and antibiotic pills into my bag. I reach down and feel a hard container, something metal, I pull it out at once and can't help but smile. It is a cream for pain, but not the kind of cream I have in my first aid kit, this is the high-tech stuff that costs thousands of dollars even in the Capitol. This is the stuff that was created by scientists and only the wealthy can use. I slide it into my pocket, grab my bag, and I am off.

Most of the careers left to the left of the cornucopia so I go in the opposite direction. It takes me a few seconds to reach the jungle but I continue moving for a good hour before finally coming to a stop, my urge for the pain cream is too much to handle. Since I entered this game all I have known is pain, agony, and soreness so the thought of getting a break is breathtaking.

I open the jar and see a thick blue substance. I probably should use it sparingly but I take a large glob of it and rub it into the deep gash in my shoulder. Instantly the pain is taken from my body and the bleeding stops. I take a moment to raise my arm, not met with the usual suffering that follows with my arm movement. I laugh, I actually laugh, this is the happiest moment since I entered this wretched place. I take another big glob and smear it along my chest, and then bicep, and even the large welt on my head that has gone down some but still remains prominent. Instantly my headache is gone.

I place the jar back in my pocket, not wanting to leave it in my backpack just in case I lose my bag or someone steals it. To me, this cream is a gift from god. I look around, spotting a camera perched in a tree. I likely am not being shown right now since the snake attack is more interesting, but they will pull up footage of me using the cream to show people I am healing now.

"I'm good," I say to the camera as a message to my family, "I got what I needed. I'm okay now...Expect me home soon."

I gather my belongings and begin to move out. The sun begins to set and I make camp after another long and exhausting day in the arena. I try one of the dried meals I got from the cornucopia. After 5 minutes I open the package and it is creamy noodles in a white sauce, I finish the whole thing in minutes and make another, opening the package to see fish and rice and then quickly finish that as well. I drink one of my bottles of water. This is it, this is when the tides turn in my favour. These past 5 days I have struggled to stay alive but now I got food, water, medicine, weapons, I am set to survive this. That is when I hear the next cannon, the echo bounces around the trees before being drowned out by the birds and monkeys.

I expect that to be it but then I hear the low hum of the hovercraft as it picks up the body of whoever died. Closer than I had expected. I worry that it could possibly be the snake and careers so I erase all signs of my camp, lay against a tree and cover myself in branches, leaves, and mud. I doze in and out of sleep for the next few hours before the anthem jolts me awake. I look up to see the seal and then the female from District 4 is shown followed by the female from District 9.

So that leaves Amethyst, both from 2, Marco, the female from 5, Petro, both from 7. the female from 10. That's 10 right there, who is the last one? Maybe the male from 11, wait no he died on the second day. Then it hits me, Vicuna, the over-talkative girl from training. How has she lived so long? I didn't think she would last more than a few days. But here she stands in the final 11. I'd love to find her and form an alliance, I'm sure she would be open for it and if she surprised me twice then she could probably be a useful ally. I'd also like to find Petro, maybe she could help with my injuries in return for some food. I wonder if she is struggling as much as I am. Probably not.


	17. The search

The sun brings new hope. The constant agony I felt since my run in with Dazzle is gone. Not only can I move freely but I have gotten one of the better nights rest I had since entering the arena. I apply more of the painkiller cream onto my wounds and re-warp them. The welt on my head has gone down tremendously and now is just a tiny bump that takes me a few seconds to even find. I eat a few strips of the jerky and drink a full bottle of water before beginning my day.

I spend the morning searching for food. I gather some berries that look like black cherries, I remember in training seeing the two from 3 were eating them in the food station, so I figure they are safe. I pop a few in my mouth, it tastes like a blackberry but then the flavour slowly dissolves into a chocolate-like taste. This would be perfect in Hulick. I find more avocados but am only able to get two from the tree, it makes me with Petro was here since her small frame could easily scurry around the branches and collect the fruit.

Today I plan to find Petro, maybe the girl from 10 since last time I saw her she was barely alive and she might be loyal to me for the lone fact that I can help defend her in the weakened state. Surviving on my own has been difficult, nearly dying numerous times, so I figure having someone to trust will be a pleasant change. I am currently right of the cornucopia, the beach I stayed at is a day travel to my north, that is the last place I saw the 10 female but it has been a few days since then and she might've cleared out when the careers came looking.

I haven't explored the West or South of the arena yet, the only way I'm able to know direction is the sun. In school, we are taught how people guided ships and sometimes planes using the sun, moon, and stars. I haven't had to use it in District 6 but people who add the final details to the hovercrafts and trucks sometimes use it to fix compass's that have stopped working. The sun rises from the East and sets in the West so from that I know I am heading East. I will keep heading this way till I reach the beach and then go down to the South and check out if Petro is hidden that way. There is 11 of us and the arena is smaller than some of the others I have seen in games so it can't be that hard to find a friendly face.

But I'm wrong. I figure the arena is more of an oval shape or maybe a rectangle since I travel most of the day and don't reach the beach. By now I would have reached by old camp but the jungle here shows no signs of letting up. I find a small pool of water and stop, refilling my bottles. I strip my clothes off and place them in the water before diving in it myself. I use moss to scrub my body clean of mud, blood, and other filth that has taken up camp on my skin. I carefully wash my wounds as well. The one on my bicep has begun to seal around the outer edges but the one on my chest and shoulder still show little to no signs of healing. I pop some antibiotic medicine and sip some water just to be safe and then bandage up the wounds and get dressed. The wet clothes make me feel uncomfortable since the pants keep squeezing my legs and the shirt rubs uncomfortably around my wounds, so I end up taking off the two shirts and tying them to my waist.

I had gained maybe 10 or so pounds during my week in the Capitol but that has already vanished from my body along with some of the muscle mass. I figure I have eaten well since entering the games but I guess it doesn't compare to how my body got used to eating in the Capitol.

I practice with my spear as well. I struggle with complex movements but I figure if I just stuck to thrusting it forward it will be alright. I'd much rather have a sword or axe though since I am able to use them more efficiently.

By the time my clothes dry it is night. I place my shirts back on and conceal myself in a few bushes. No deaths today. It's another good night of rest.

I risk a small fire in the morning to cook one of the dried meals I gathered in the cornucopia, this one being chicken with rice mixed in a red sauce. It's delicious and I end up ripping the package open and licking the sides to make sure I get every last bit.

I have the thought of using the fire to set the jungle ablaze and then flee to the beach and let the tributes deal with smoke and fire but I figure the gamemakers would likely send in rain or snow to put the fires out since it would only be entertaining for a few hours before people got bored, and by then I'd be lucky if even 1 person died from it. I could keep just attracting the snake mutt too, follow the careers and every time they stop to rest splatter blood and let the snake move in but how many times could I do that before the gamemakers got rid of the mutt so that I would have to kill the careers myself. Besides the gamemakers don't like it when people use the mutts or arena itself as ways to win, some few cases slide through like what I did in order to get the pain medication, but other stuff they get mad about.

I remember sitting on the couch in the living area. We would sometimes see a tribute use a gamemaker attack or mutts to take out a few tributes and win. Mom would always mumble, "They won't like that." She told me a story of a guy who won the 50th games, he used the force field to kill the last tribute and win. She said that his family died in a horrible accident but it was obvious that the Capitol killed everyone he loved as punishment. Then there was a girl a few years ago who used the arena itself to win. It was a maze that changed constantly and she used it to drive the last tribute mad until he killed himself. She came out of the arena not killing a single person and was so proud, then during the victory tour she could barely stand she was so drunk and looked as if she had aged 30 years, so I figure they killed her family as well. So maybe using the snake mutt more than once would cause me to suffer the same fate

I continue moving East. I find some weird ants in the ground that have weird shaped bodies and have the urge to collect them for food but they could be a Capitol trick so I keep moving. The sun has begun to set on another day and I know I will have to find a place to make camp soon.

 _Crk!_ I stop, hearing something crunch under my feet. This isn't leaves or a branch, no this is something else. I lift my foot and kneel down to see a necklace that has been woven with two colours of thread but then I see the splatters of red and instantly know it is blood. There's more, splattered around the grass, ferns, and bark that litter the ground. I move on my hands and knees, finding a large pool of dried blood. I brush my hands along the rough surface and watch as the rust coloured blood begins to flake at the touch. I reach through a batch of weeds and suddenly feel something brush against my hand, within seconds a branch with ten spiked twigs woven against it slides through the air just above my head, coming to a stop.

I freeze, not wanting to set off another trap. I slowly get to my feet and looked at the spiked branch, dried blood soaks into the wood. Someone died here, someone triggered this trap and got ten spikes into their body. Suddenly the girl from 9 flashes in my head and I have the eerie feeling she was the one who died here.

I take a step back, trying to place my feet in the exact places they hit when I was walking in this direction. Another step back, then another.

"Where are you going?" I hear a female call out.

My heart stops and I look up hoping to see Petro but I'm disappointed. The woman before me is mid height, light brown hair tied into a ponytail, her pale skin and freckles more exaggerated in the setting sun. It is not Petro, but not a threat either. At least I hope.


	18. They like to hunt at night

Vicuna stands innocently just feet away. I know for her to be confident enough to stand out in the open without a weapon means there must be a secondary trap between us. I suddenly find myself too afraid to even take an inch forward and now know what Vicuna did to get as high of a training score as she did.

"You're the male from 6?" Vicuna asks.

"Yea," I reply.

"Your partner with you?" She asks, her eyes scanning the jungle.

"No, I was hoping to find her but haven't yet," I see no point in lying. Vicuna must rely on the traps to kill so as long as I don't go towards her she can't do any harm to me.

"How many have you killed?"

I pause for a moment, not even knowing the answer myself. I tried my best to forget about the deaths but find myself eerily accepting of them, at least somewhat accepting. Occasionally the mangled boy from 1 or the wide-eyed male from 5 make appearances in my dreams and cause me to wake up. "Three," I mumble to her, "You?"

"One, the 9 female," She says.

"I'm sorry," I say. I know how difficult it can be from killing someone, especially when I sliced the District 5 male open out of fear. And Vicuna seemed close with the male from 9 so she must have had some basic knowledge if not talked to the female from his district as well.

"Don't be," Vicuna smiles, "Wheaton told me she was very rude and competitive."

I figure Wheaton must be the male from 9.

"You want to come eat something?" She asks.

This is it, this is her trying to get me closer so she can trick me into a trap and then I will be dead. She probably sees the big black bag on my shoulders and is just itching to get her hands on it. I know I would be if I was her. I take a step backward, not wanting to move too quickly so I can be sure to step with care if there is another trap around me.

"You don't want to be out there at night...The spiders, they're bad in this area and they like to come out at night." Vicuna says.

"I haven't seen any spiders," I say, only recalling the snake.

"Cause you weren't close enough to that," Vicuna points to the dried blood just feet from me.

So is that the twist this year? Each part of the arena covered in a massive mutt that is attracted to the smell of blood? It would make for a good show. A tribute would be in a massive battle and then forced to dodge monstrous horrors because of the blood. The action makes me sorta trust Vicuna. The snake was attracted to the blood so why wouldn't the spider mutts she has brought up. If she wanted me to die she could have sent me on my merry way and leave me to the mutts that would be in close vicinity do to the blood that is on the ground. Besides, spiders are horrifying to me so I'd rather risk my life with Vicuna rather than battling off spiders.

I nod my head and she smiles. "Come along then," She says.

I'm hesitant but do as she says, watching the ground for any signs of a trap, but she i smart, the wire that I set off well looking at the blood was so well hidden that I didn't even see it from a few inches away. How did she learn this? She told me she made dresses back in District 8, guess that requires creativity along with the ability to carefully spin thread. But here in the games it isn't dresses she makes, it is death traps that impale you or send you down into a pit, the masterful thread techniques she knew are now cleverly set wires with tight knots and delicate trips.

She points down a few inches in front of me and I look, it takes me a moment but I see it, the wire. It poked out of a set of leaves. I wonder what sort of contraption is set off by this simple wire. I step over it and then take a few more steps and I am right beside Vicuna. This right here makes me trust her full-heartily. I could take her out right now, without problem. Even though I have wounds and lost weight I am still three times her size and could easily overpower her and she knows that. _So this is it...An alliance,_ I think. And then I'm suddenly happy because I have someone watching my back, someone helping me to get to the end. I know it can not last forever, eventually we will have to break ties, but that is days if not weeks from now.

She leads me through her stretch of territory and there are far more traps than I had expected. Every few seconds we are jumping over a wire, avoiding a part of land, even at one point we shimmy along a tree. Vicuna gets a good laugh from this since I am horrid at climbing but also petrified of what will happen if I fall from the trunk of the tree so I end up in a awkward position on the side of the tree as I make my way ever so slowly along it. It takes a few more minutes but we reach her camp in the centre of her ring of traps.

The set up she has is impressive. She has a tarp set up between four large trees with a small fire under it. A tent has been set up in the corner and she has made a few shelves using branches to dry out fish fillets. So she had to have gone into the bloodbath to gather at least the tarp and tent she has now but it is hard to imagine. For the tent she would have to get right into the cornucopia, like I did, and it is hard believing the woman who stands in front of me, the girl who probably is barely a few inches more than five feet tall – Not because she is so young, since I figure she is probably around 17 or 18, but because she is just short – went into the thick of things to get a tent and escaped without a scratch.

"Where did you get the fish?" I ask.

"There is a pond not far from here. I go there every few days to get as much as I can carry and then hide out here," She answers. "Want some?"

I sit beside the fire she has going and decide to share some of my bounty as well. I take my last dried meal, the creamy noodles, and we mix in some of the fish. She throws in handful of herbs and I toss in half the bag of nuts I got from Heriminia and then we split it equally and dig in. Vicuna jokes about how the other tributes are probably surviving on berries and leaves and here we are having fish in creamy noodles with nuts, she is a very talkative person since I hardly speak, just focused on the food. But then again she comes from rich family and probably hasn't had to worry about food once in her life where me, well if you see food you better eat it fast. By the time I have finished my share she is not even half way through hers and continues to blissfully take small amounts of the food.

"Would do better with some basil," Vicuna says.

"Why not ask the sponsors," I joke. But she takes me seriously and before I know it she is looking at the sky telling the sponsors to send her a handful of fresh basil. It never does come, though.

"So do you guys train for the games?" Vicuna asks, "There was that kid back a few years ago...Titus? He killed like half the tributes in his games. And you guys seem to be fairly strong."

I remember Titus. He was a kid from the poorer regions and heavily addicted to morphling. But when he got reaped he had no access to the drug, that combined with the stress of the games made him snap the second he entered the arena and he turned into a beast. He slaughtered tributes and then would eat them. District 6 was cheering him on regardless, not so much cause we were proud but because he was a shoe-in to win and we knew we would get a years worth of food...That was before the avalanche the gamemakers caused did him in.

"No training," I say, "We just work in the hubs. Lifting tires, chains, parts for vehicles. Your body gets built up."

"We don't have that kind of worry in 8," Vicuna says, "it is horribly depressing, though. There are no trees, barely any grass. There is always smoke lingering around the district and sometimes it is so bad that the sun gets blocked out."

"However do you survive," I say jokingly but gain she takes it seriously.

"Well we live in a smaller village up a hill so we don't have to really worry about the smoke and the grass there grows better so it isn't as depressing."

It does sound depressing. Back at 6 we have grass and trees throughout the district. We do have the smoke from some of the hubs, mostly the one that makes trains but since the hubs are so far apart the smoke doesn't collect and linger. The only really rough part is during late winter when the wind picks up and we are left in an overcast for a couple of months. I hate those months since the sky just remains gray but I can't imagine having it be like that all year round.

We are quiet as it starts to go dark. Vicuna finishes her food and then she starts getting a bed made up in the tent for me. I give her the sleeping bag and tarp but she seems reluctant to use a tarp as a blanket and says the tent should be enough to keep us warm during the night. There is a sound far off that is like sharp screeching, not a sound a human can make. Vicuna tells me it is the spiders trying to figure out a way to get to us but assures me we are safe.

"They have been trying the past three nights," she says, "but I made sure to block any path they can take."

I don't feel as sure about that and decide to take the first watch which confuses Vicuna since she hasn't bothered to even consider taking watches during the night. How this girl has made it so far is a mystery. Then Vicuna heads to bed.

"What about the faces in the sky?" I remind her.

"I don't remember hearing a cannon," She mumbles back.

I stay hopeful of a career death though. There could have been a cannon well I was sleeping or distracted and I didn't hear it. But when the anthem plays no faces are shown. I stay awake and continue to stoke the fire, to afraid to sleep since the distant cries of the spider mutts continue to echo through the jungle which has falling silent. The trees themselves even looking mischievous, the night has a way of making the jungle look different, more evil. I doze in and out of sleep well laying against the tree but once the screeching has stopped I crawl into the tent to get a few hours of sleep.


	19. Killer

It has been three days without deaths and when I awake to see the smoke I know the audience has grown bored. But the smoke isn't meant for Vicuna and me, instead, another tribute deals with one of the gamemakers attacks. Far off in the distance, we watch as we see the morning sky brighter than usual as black smoke rises in the air, a fire. It would be impossible for a forest fire to get to that size without the help of gamemakers, so they must be torturing a tribute, maybe more, in hopes of entertaining the audience.

It makes sense, usually, by now the games have reached at least the final 9, so these games have been slower than usual. Hopefully, the fire keeps the audience pleased and there will be no other attacks for now but the gamemakers will likely want to narrow down the playing field a bit in the coming days.

I sit down with Vicuna and we have the berries I gathered with bread and roots that Vicuna has. It is a good breakfast and fills me up. Vicuna has better though and she says that she would kill for some eggs. I'm sure if she did kill someone that a sponsor would send her eggs but I feel confident that I'm safe from Vicuna's hit list so I don't put much thought into it.

We go down to the outskirts of her traps and begin to reset the ones that the spiders had set off last night. I make sure to observe the area for every detail so I know how far her traps reach if I ever get separated or go off on my own. They span about 70 or so meters away from her camp except for the path she takes to get to the pond where she catches fish, she leaves only about 30 meters between her camp and the traps so that it is easier for her to get to and from the pond. If I ever do need to leave that is the best way to go. I try to remember each trap as well but there is so many, in one spot she has four within 3 square feet, all of which can easily kill a tribute.

I can't help but feel how Vicuna could fit into the Capitol. She talks like my prep team, non-stop and drifting from subject to subject. I try my best to keep up but once she starts talking about her boyfriend, some guy named Weaven, I loose track because she begins to talk too fast. Plus I partially don't want to listen since that just makes me closer to her and in the end, only one person can win this game. I kinda understand now why Petro never wanted to talk when we were in the Capitol.

"But you know he visits me every day so that is sweet but sometimes I feel bad because he works at the factories and he spends most his day working then comes to visit me and I feel like I am taking away his family, or am I wrong?" Vicuna goes on.

"No, I don't think so," I look at the sky, judging it must be past noon by now. We've spent hours checking each trap.

"Yea so I need to not spend as much time," She says as we begin making our way back.

We reach camp again and I clean my wounds. Vicuna asks what happens and I tell her how Dazzle attacked me and pinned me against a tree and began to use a knife to carve into my body. I tell her how I threw him into the water and let the sharks tear him apart before fleeing. I also tell her that Herminia is working with only one eye, just so if Vicuna has the chance to take out Herminia she knows that the girl is partially blind. I apply the medicine, take a few pills, and then begin to wrap it with the last of my clean bandages.

"No, no," Vicuna says as she takes the roll of bandages from my hand, "You are doing it all wrong."

She begins to carefully spin the bandages around my body, covering the wounds. "You need to take your time, make sure it overlaps the last part and it remains tight," Vicuna says. I sit with my hands in the air as she dresses the wounds for me. I do have to admit that the bandages feel more stable and lot more effective when she does it. I always found myself readjusting them or having to tie them up numerous times but now they show no sign of loosening.

"Thanks," I say.

We spend the day laying in her camp. The sun shines through the canopy above us and warms out bodies. Occasionally we spot a monkey swinging in the trees. It is a unique sight since I never even knew what monkeys looked like before this but now I watch as they eat fruit from the trees above me. We munch on fish and berries well we talk but once the shadows begin to grow longer she begins to show me some simple snares I can set to catch small animals for food. Vicuna says she would have just used snares to catch food but she doesn't feel safe leaving her territory on numerous spots to collect the snares, that just going to the pond for fish is her limits. I figure tomorrow I will go out and set snares since I am not afraid to venture out from the safety of the traps. That way we will be able to have meat with the fish.

That's when a rope began to thrash in the air above the tent like something invisible was caught in it and trying to escape.

"One of the traps got set off," Vicuna says as she gets to her feet.

"But there is no cannon," I say.

"Sometimes animals set them off," she says, 'You coming?"

I get up and we head to the location where the trap was set off. Vicuna has seven ropes, each rope connects to numerous traps in seven parts of her territory. One of the traps springs, tugs on the rope, and the rope shakes and Vicuna knows something went off and knows what area it was set off in. The intelligence to think let alone execute this system is baffling, but here Vicuna stands blowing all other tributes out of the water with just her smarts.

We reach the area faster than before, mostly because I am used to dodging the traps know and have begun to remember where some of them are set so I am not as nervous as I was yesterday. We find the trap that has been sprung. A wire that when pushed it detaches numerous spikes dangling in the trees to fall own and impale anyone below it.

"Damn it," Vicuna says, "This trap took me hours to set up."

She begins to pick up the spikes from the ground and I bend down to help. They have been made from wood, like most of the things she has used, but the end, they have been carved so cleanly. How did she do this? Vicuna didn't get any weapons, least none that I saw. Rocks could sharpen the wood but it would be rough and uneven, these spikes are smooth and perfect. You would need a blade to get this level of precision.

"How did you," I glance up and stop. Vicuna stands over me, a machete in hand. I have the instinct to reach for my spear but it is gone, I left it in the camp. My knife is in the back of my belt. I quickly go to reach for it.

"Nu-uh," Vicuna hisses, "Don't think about it. I don't want to kill you. I only want your supplies."

"Why did you bring me in your camp then?" I ask.

"Information," She replies, "You have been wandering around the arena. I wanted to know where people were, what the arena was like. Which thanks, I saw that ocean and was thinking of moving camp there, but now I know about the sharks."

I suddenly see something from the corner of my eye. The leaves shiver and move before a tribute steps out. She moves quietly, dagger in hand, she moves towards Vicuna. I don't dare say anything. Vicuna has me at the end of a machete, she is no ally, so if this tribute can attack Vicuna I will have enough time to flee. The girl is close, dagger raised but something catches Vicuna's attention, the glimpse of light bouncing off the dagger. Vicuna turns around and the tribute sends the dagger through Vicuna's shoulder.

"Aa!" Vicuna screams.

I get to my feet to run but the second I turn the male from District 7 is there and I suddenly realize the female tribute wasn't working alone. I smash right into the male and we both hit the ground. For a second I get the upper hand, landing on top of him but he digs his fingers into the wound in my chest. The pain grips me and I can't help my loosening grip. It is enough for him to flip me off him and land on me.

I slam my first into his face, knocking him back. I kick him off me and scramble to my feet at the same time he does. I see him charge at me but I grab him by the waist and lift him off the ground, throwing him to the ground. There is a sudden snapping sound before a loud scream. For a second I think he broke something but he hobbles off the ground and I see one of the wooden spikes has torn through his left thigh. He stumbles backward, pressing against the wound to try and stop the bleeding.

I glance towards Vicuna and see she is pinned against a tree, the female tribute slams her first into Vicuna's mid-section. This is it, this is my chance to flee and get as far away as I can. By the time either Vicuna or the other female tribute has died I will be long gone.

I break into a run but the tree shifts and suddenly four massive legs shoot out from the tree, spider legs. It's huge. The eight black eyes are the size of my body and its legs as long as the trees in the arena. The smooth fangs shudder against one another emitting a low, choppy clanking sound. The spider reaches for the District 7 male before he even has time to react. The four long legs grabbing him and yanking him into the tree as the spider vanishes, only the sounds of his screams can be heard.

My feet come out from under me as I stop and my back slams into the ground. Panic takes over and I get on all fours, crawling backward as my eyes scan the tree line expecting the spider to come back, but it doesn't, instead dozens of smaller spiders make an appearance. Ranging from the size of a large dog to the size of a car. I manage to get to my feet and bump into the female tribute. She has stopped attacking Vicuna and the two stare at the army of mutts that emerge from the forest.

Suddenly we hear the cannon fire, the District 7 male must have just died. The three of us go to bolt away but another spider is in front of us, it hangs upside down from a thin thread of webbing, it raises its legs towards us as a hiss escapes its fangs. I go to go to the side but the female tribute suddenly sends her dagger into its head. The spider screeches as it hits the ground, scurrying away.

"Run!" She screams.

We bolt through the woods, Vicuna leading the way so that we know where to expect the traps. I continue weaving through the trees when I feel the girl behind me grab me back the neck and yank me back to throw me to the spiders. I feel my heart skip a beat from fear and I instinctively reach for her as she runs past, grabbing her hair as I hit the ground, dragging her down with me.

I hear them, the spiders, they are getting closer. I crawl but stagger to my feet and go to run again but the female grabs me. She is trying to throw me a second time but I am expecting it now and overpower her, she tries but fails to get me down. I push her away, wanting to just escape, the phobia of the spiders being my only concern.

She pulls out her dagger and comes at me, letting out a battle cry. I quickly grab her arm and twist the knife away from me but she passes it to her other hand and slashes my cheek. I feel blood running down my face, I taste the metallic flavour as the liquid fills my mouth. I slam my first into the side of her head, expecting it to be enough to knock her away fro me to escape but she comes back, dagger ready. I grab my knife and swing but she drops to the ground and wraps her arms around my waist, I feel her push and she does get me back a few inches before I plant my feet behind me and come to a stop. Sharp pain shoots up my spine and I know she has stabbed me somewhere in the lower back, my right leg shivers and feels weak almost instantly.

I send the knife down into her back and feel her tense up, the scream escape her lips. Suddenly I can feel myself sink, my heart drops as my mind remembers the face of the female. She is from District 5. My thoughts are flooded by memories of Toben, my brother, being strangled by the female from 5 in his games, how I was powerless to stop it. And before I know it I am screaming as I send the knife into her back over and over again. She is trying to escape but I have my arms wrapped under her armpits, she isn't escaping. I keep stabbing, keep digging the knife deeper, feeling the blood splatter onto my body, hearing her bones crack from the knife and flesh rip. I hear the cannon fire but I don't stop, I can't stop. All I can picture is watching my brother being strangled by the female of the same district as the one who lays limp in my arms and suddenly I am not watching helplessly, I am acting and killing like it will bring back my brother. _It won't,_ The thought enters my mind, _You need to go. Stop. You need to move now._ I let her body drop to my feet.

Before I can do anything else I am pinned against a tree, two large fangs baring down at my neck. I let out a horrible scream as I slide my hands against the spider's underbelly and begin to push it off but it doesn't budge, only enough to avoid the fangs from reaching my body. The pedipalps wrap around my torso and begin to pull me closer to the fangs of the creature. I'm still holding the knife! I forgot about the weapon till now and quickly plunge it into the belly of the spider. It lets out a cry and drops to the ground along with me. I get on my hands and knees, crawling away before jumping to my feet and bolting towards Vicuna's camp.

The spiders seem to be slower than me. I can hear their screeching, hissing, and clanking sounds but there are further in the distance. Maybe the gamemakers are just pulling them back for a bit and deciding whether to keep sending more or to call it a day and get them back. I don't think too much on the subject though as I reach the camp, by the looks of it Vicuna was already here. The fish is all gone along with my sleeping bag. I'm sure there is more gone but I don't waste time to check inventory. I grab what I can, sliding my spear from the spot I had placed it beside the tree, I guess Vicuna doesn't care for spears or else she hadn't seen it.

Once I have what I can carry I am off in the direction of the pond. Once I have cleared the traps I break around Vicuna's old territory and run towards the beach. This area belongs to the spiders, I know the beach is past their reach however since that is for the sharks.

It is nightfall when I finally do reach the beach. I drop to my knees, feeling the sand between my fingers. I'm exhausted, my head pounds and I am too dizzy but all I can think of is how I am a killer. Before, the other deaths I caused, I thought nothing really. But it hits me now with full force. Four people, four people I have killed. Four families I single-handily put in despair. I know that feeling all too well, seeing someone you love die, hoping the person that killed them suffers and is killed in the most gruesome way possible. I am no longer the young boy who had to watch his brother get strangled, I'm not the brother who was pinned in a cave and felt my life slip out of my body, I'm the female, the girl from 5 who pinned my brother against the cave and killed him. I'm the one who the families wish to see die. I'm the one who put my life above all others. I'm the killer.


	20. Today was a good day

I hear the anthem but don't bother to look, I already know the two tributes who died. Besides, it hurts to roll over. The 5 female got me good in the back, the pain from that one alone makes all the rest seem meager. The last of the pain medicine was used on it but after an hour it wore off so here I lay on the beach, biting down on cloth trying to get through the night. I drift in and out of sleep, but most of the time it is out. When I do sleep I am attacked by spider mutts or the mangled boy from 1, his partially eating hands pinning me down as he smiles with blood and flesh dripping from his lips. After awhile I don't bother trying to sleep.

I feel the first few rays of sun hit my body and I know I need to move. I am in the middle of the beach and night offered some safety but with day now upon me, I know that I can't lay here forever. I need to get to the tree line, camouflage myself like I did when I fell from the waterfall.

I use my spear and dig it deep into the ground. I slowly slide my good leg under my body, my right leg being weak and shaky since I got stabbed. I prop myself up and instantly agony fills my body but I fight through it, pulling myself up with the spear. I grit my teeth but when I move my right leg my body ceases and I drop back down to the ground. I partially feel like I deserve this, all the lives I have taken, but the thought of my family watching me wishing for me to return is the only thing that keeps me from just dropping myself into the ocean for the sharks. I try again this time I use the spear in place of my right leg. I, again, begin to pull my way up, sliding my left leg under me and prop myself up on the spear. I don't bother moving my right leg, I let it drag behind me. I quickly lift the spear and plant it in the ground a few inches ahead of me then slowly shuffle my left leg till it reaches the spear then repeat the movement until I reach the forest line. I let myself drop to the ground and give myself five minutes to breathe before I will begin to camouflage myself.

The beeping sound startles me. I stay low to the ground as my scan around me looking for a tribute or mutt to come running out, weapon poised. But it is neither. The silver parachute with small metal canister at the end drops down from the sky, gracefully landing on the ground right in front of me. A sponsor gift!

I quickly grab it and open the metal canister to see the slim note. The victors are allowed to provide a one, possibly two sentenced not along with the gift. One year a recent victor kept sending a tribute small sponsor gifts like bits of bread or rubber just to be able to send notes and was informing the tribute of who was near, what to do, what to expect. It was considered cheating by the gamemakers and the tribute was killed immediately after in an explosion. I read the note "You're doing good, keep it up! - Caliper." Wow really inspiring. I don't judge the note too much since it isn't the thing I want, it is what the gift is. There is a small container. I open it to find a thick jelly like substance that is light pink in colour. I know this has to be for the wounds, what other reason would I be sent a gift? I take a glob of it, find the puncture in my lower back, and smear the substance into the wound. There are a few seconds where it stings and I grip my backpack but then it calms down, the pain is taken away until it is left numb. I spread it on my cheek and shoulder, leaving the gashes on my chest and bicep since they have really begun to heal and only hurt occasionally.

My body numbs and feels cold so I perch myself against the tree and lay in the sun. I look up, knowing there is a camera on me right now. "Thank you," I say, "Thank you whoever paid for this." I know it must be some wealthy Capitol citizen or even possible a few. Gifts like this don't come cheap and people only send this kind of gifts to tributes they have money on. Somewhere in the Capitol one or possibly more citizens have placed bets on me to win and are now trying to ensure that they don't lose that bet. As sick as it is to know that people are betting it makes me somewhat relieved. I have people who are rooting for me to win, who are willing to help me win. They will keep dishing out money for gifts so long as I look like a promising win and that their bets could win with me.

Now that I feel much better I decide to go through the bag to see what I am missing. I know Vicuna already took my sleeping bag but upon inspection of the bag, she also took one of my knives, the tarp, flashlight, beef jerky, and 2 of the water bottles. She likely would have taken all four but I had one bottle strapped to my belt and the empty one was left in the camp. I sip some of the water from my last bottle ad then eat my last avocado. I'm getting dangerously low on food now but Vicuna had that pond nearby and judging by the amount of fish she had it was stocked full.

Now with the pain gone I know I can move easily. I get to my feet and begin to retrace my steps back to Vicuna's camp, from there I'd be able to get to the pond. It isn't hard retracing my steps. There is a path of destruction, broken branches, trampled plants from when I was fleeing the attack. Within the hour I have made it back to Vicuna's camp and find myself face to face with the mutts, likely the ones I see are all dead. A few of the spiders have triggered some of Vicuna's traps and now lay motionless on the ground, green liquid oozing from their bodies. I salvage the tarp and tent from Vicuna's camp and I go to leave when I stop myself. I glance back at the spiders.

I already know they have been altered to be smart. The outer traps didn't even get sprung cause the spiders knew where they were and knew to avoid them, but the traps closer to camp, the ones they couldn't see, those are the ones that killed a few. But are they altered in any other way? The snake spewed acid at its victims, I figured that out when Marco ran well holding his face. Do the spiders have something like this? I remember my friend back in 6 who said that spiders all have venom that paralyzes its prey and a spider that size, I'm sure the venom could have some effect on the tributes.

I grab a stick, inching towards the closest one. It is about the size of a car and has six eyes. I see the trap that did it in, a large spike that fell from the trees and tore through the spiders head. But to be sure it is dead I poke it with the branch, going for its eyes since I figure this would cause some sort of reaction if it was alive. Nothing moves on it and I figure it is safe. I pull out the old jar that the pain medicine was in and get closer to the spider. I don't want to look at the grotesque creature but I am too afraid to look away. Of course, it had to be spiders. I get on my knees and see its fangs, two long ones attached to puffy round bulges that attach the fangs to the head of the spider. The venom is in there and I know I'm going to have to squeeze it to get the venom out through the fangs.

 _One...Two...three._ I wrap my left arm around the puffy part of the fang and squeeze, placing the jar at the end of the fang. My hair stands up and my skin crawls from having the spider partially on my back and the fangs in my hands but I try my best not to think of it. Within a few seconds, I see the jar is filled with venom, a yellowish like fluid, and close the jar before quickly rushing out from under the spider. I take a few seconds to brush myself off. There is nothing on me but it seems to help the jitters.

I make my way back to the camp and notice the venom isn't burning into the jar so it can't be an acid like the snake had. I'm sure though it has to be poisonous or at least paralyze whatever it enters. I carefully coat my knife and spear in the liquid and then seal the jar. This simple action makes me feel twice as confident in the arena. Now all I need is one scratch on a tribute and I will be able to get the upper hand, the venom will take effect and the tribute will be easy to evade of pick off.

So now that my injuries are taken care of, I got supplies, now just food and water. I begin the route towards the pond. It is closer than I thought cause within an hour I have reached it. The pond is small with a stream of water cascading down rocks into the pond. Berries, vines, and thin trees surround the rocky edge and the area around the pond. The pond itself is deep, too deep to see the bottom through the crystal clear waters. But the fish, hundreds if not thousands of them make their way in circles around the pond eating objects within the water. I don't even need to try, I just dip the tarp in and pull it out and with that, I already have three good size fish. I realize now coating my knife in the venom wasn't smart cause I have nothing to fillet the fish with so I end up tearing into it with my hands and salvaging whatever meat I can.

I make a small fire with the matches and roast the meat and lay on the soft mossy ground well eating fish and drinking water. I finish off the three fish quickly and catch another two, cooking them up but only get through one before I am too full. I reapply some of the pink substance on my injuries.

The first aid kit has plastic compartments and I manage to pull them all out. I catch a few more fish, clean them, cook them and then place the meat in each of the plastic compartments, placing them in my bag next to the water since it will keep the fish cool. I know it won't last long but now if I have to flee quickly then I will have a good days worth of food to go on.

I stomp out the fire and then begin to make camp. I find a flat surface on the rocky edge, roughly 9 feet up that is big enough for me to lay on so I make home there. The anthem plays right on time, no deaths today. For the first time in a long time, I smile. Today was a good day.


	21. Another one down

The sound of the cannon jolts me awake. My first instinct is to grab the spear. I look over the ledge, expecting assailants to be waiting below with swords and knives but nothing makes an appearance. It must have happened somewhere far from me because I look in the air and see no hovercraft. _The final 8,_ I think to myself. I never expected I'd make it this far, outlasting 16 others.

In the morning the Capitol will likely send out cameras and reporters to all the districts who still have tributes in the game. Mom will wake up to cameras and interviewers and they will sit my family down to talk about my game, my life, what I mean to them. Michelle will likely be too dazed to answer most of the questions but mom and Clauria will likely try to gain me more sponsors by giving thorough and moving answers. Clauria more so. She was good at stuff like that, a very clever girl. I always thought that if she was ever picked for the games that she would get to the finals without a problem and by then she would have some plan in place to take out the final tribute and win. But now that I am in the game and she will be interviewed I know she will be exaggerating some of the answers to get me more favour in the Capitol.

I begin to nestle back down into the small bed I have made for myself when I notice a green glow on the rocks. It's coming from below me. I glance down and see the pond below me is illuminated with a greenish tint. But there are animals within the water, not fish but birds, monkeys, and other animals I have never seen or heard of before. They float, dead in the water. Their bodies have begun to disintegrate and break apart. Was this what the fish were eating when I got here? I thought maybe the chunks of food they were working on were just insects that fell into the water not other animals. Something isn't right here.

Feeling vulnerable I scale the rocky wall until I reach the top, the small stream washes between the rocks and I make sure not to touch the water. Even though the stream doesn't glow I don't trust it, at least not during the night. I make my way along the stream figuring I mind as well stay up for now. I collect a few berries, the ones Vicuna showed me, along the stream. As the sun rises up I find myself in a part of the stream that is eerie. Large boulders create mazes and massive shoots of bamboo conceal what lays further down. If I was in better shape I would walk in there and hide, no tribute would ever find someone in that, but knowing the games there is likely a mutt hidden within the bamboo just waiting for some innocent stupid tribute to walk in. I do see sugar cane growing on the outskirts though and gather some of it before leaving the arena.

I walk through the jungle, eating sugar cane, as I hear the birds wake as the sun rises. By now my mom has probably discovered the army of Capitol citizens wanting to interview my family. Clauria will be getting done up and helping Michelle get ready. I wonder if they are at Petro's door to? Or was she the cannon that sounded late last night?

The trumpets suddenly blast through the arena. An announcement! That is the only reason those trumpets play. And it is usually to announce a feast. The feast is an event that takes place at the cornucopia where items are offered. And I am not wrong. Claudius' voice booms through the arena saying there will be a feast at the cornucopia tomorrow morning.

I have a good sense not to go, feasts always result in deaths. But then I remember mom saying how in games that she watched if the feasts had no deaths the gamemakers would take it out on those who did not attend and would usually kill off one or two of them to make up for the lack of an entertaining feast. So I figure I will just sit at the outskirts of the cornucopia and observe the feast, that way if there are no deaths I won't be targeted. Besides, maybe I will go in. Usually, they offer food, but the arena has plenty of food to offer, so maybe they will offer armor, powerful weapons, or medicine...Medicine. I didn't apply the medical substance I got from sponsors the other day and I feel no pain.

I lift up my shirt immediately and notice the deep wound on my shoulder has healed tremendously. It is no longer deep as it was, maybe a half an inch deep now and covered in scabs. I lift my hand to my cheek and only feel a bump where there was once a gash. It isn't for pain, the sponsor gift accelerates healing! This couldn't have been bought by one sponsor, no way, this was bought by many. The small container full of pink goo now becomes my most prized possession. I rub a small amount on my chest and bicep, even though the injuries there have begun to heal it will be quicker with the substance on it. I apply small amounts to the rest to help them along as well and then place them in a pocket on my pants.

With this, this miracle gift, I have a high chance at winning. I try to remember who all is left. The female from 1, both from 2, male from 4, that right there is the career pack. I figure one of them was likely not the cannon since they are the strongest of us. Then there is Petro, Blaire, maybe she was the cannon since she was with the careers and they might've turned on her. And then Vicuna. That's seven...I'm missing one more. Who is the other tribute? Was it the male from 11? No, he died on the second day, his cannon almost got me killed. Then who is it? I figure I will see all the tributes at the feast so I don't place much thought into it.

The careers will not pass the chance to kill tributes at the feast and neither will Blaire f she is still alive. Vicuna lost most of her supplies on the attack we had so she will likely go to make up for what she lost. Petro, I don't know if she would go. I hope she does, though, that way I can meet up with her and we can stick together and maybe come up with a plan to take out the careers alliance.

I begin to make my way to the feast. I finish off the sugar cane and it gives me a boost of energy. I move quickly, knowing the cornucopia is far from where I am now but I must be able to reach it before tomorrow morning, the gamemakers would never pick a spot and time that some tributes couldn't make it to at that time. If they did I'm sure the Capitol citizens would complain, either for the lack of possible deaths or else favouring certain tributes. I doubt it is the latter. I stop every few hours, taking sips of water. The arena is getting hot, too hot. A few days ago walking during the day was warm but now the sun beats down on me and I drip of sweat. I am beyond happy when the sun begins to set.

I'm tempted to use my lantern but it is too dangerous. I have to be getting closer to the cornucopia by now and there will be seven other tributes gathered nearby, they could easily spot the light of the lantern and I wouldn't stand a chance, well maybe I would. I've evaded the careers before and have killed two of them, so maybe I would have a chance against them again. I further believe that when the anthem plays. I look in the sky and see Marco, the District 4 male in the sky. I didn't expect a career to be dead. Maybe they took him out because he was weak after the snake attack or maybe another tribute took advantage of him being injured and picked him off. Either way, the careers have one less member in their alliance.

It is late at night when I reach the cornucopia. I hear the sounds of the waves crashing against the beach that the cornucopia sits on. It is nice and calming, I almost fall asleep a few times listening to it but then I shake myself awake, knowing that I am in close proximity to the other tributes. It is hard to stay awake, harder than I had originally thought. I end up emptying my bag and refilling it over and over again to keep my mind busy so I stay awake. By the time I am too bored to continue with that the sun has begun to rise. It's time for the feast.


	22. It's ok

For awhile it is quiet. The sun rises up quicker than usual and the entire beach area the cornucopia sits on lays still, only the occasional bird or monkey can be heard. Then the ground in front of the cornucopia gives and a stone table rises up. It locks into place and the feast begins. On it is a bounty of supplies. Food, water, lethal weapons, medicine, and backpacks that I am sure are full of goodies.

I'm tempted myself to rush in and grab what I can but I am good right now. I have food, water though it is getting low, weapons, I don't need anything on that table, I only want what is on it. I stay in my place, hand on my spear so if someone finds me here I can attack easily.

No one seems to go for the table. One minute passes, then two, then three and still nothing. Then suddenly I catch the glint of red hair from the corner of my eyes, Petro. She bolts from the cover of the jungle and begins racing to the table. I see why, she has lost at least 15 or 20 pounds since the last time I saw her. I know she is going for the food. How, though? I thought food was abundant in the arena. That's when it hits me, she was rich she never had to get berries from bushes or meat from animals like I did and in training she ignored the edible plants station. She must be too nervous to eat anything growing on the trees or plants and unable to catch animals for food.

I see two more race out, the careers. Marius and Amethyst are running side by side towards the table. Herminia is missing, where is she? Could she be scouting the jungle for others waiting for their chance to go for the table? Suddenly I don't feel too safe in my spot. Another bolts out, Vicuna. Four tributes all running for the table, four still left hidden somewhere in the jungle.

I watch as Amethyst and Marius break up, one going for Vicuna and the other runs in Petro's direction. I sit, waiting to see what happens. I want to scream at Petro to leave, to rush out and help but that would mean risking my own life. No, I will wait. If she escapes then I leave after her and if she runs into trouble I will do whatever I can to help.

Petro is the first to reach the table and she goes for the bag first, ripping it open as she reaches for the food on the table, stuffing it into the bag. _Ok, you have enough, go!_ I think to myself but she stays. She is staying too long! Marius is getting closer to her but she continues stuffing food into the bag. She isn't going to make it.

I give in and jump to my feet, breaking out of the jungle. I immediately hear someone follow after me but don't bother to look.

"Run!" I scream as I rush to Petro.

Petro glances up at me and then she looks to see Marius is only feet from her. She zips her bag up, bringing it into a hug, and then she is off but not fast enough. Marius grabs Petro by the hair, yanking her back. Marius lifts her like she weighs nothing and slams her up against the wall of the cornucopia. I can see Petro struggling, she is trying to get free.

"Petro!" I call as if my voice will do something to deter the career.

Suddenly a cannon fires. My heart sinks and I feel a flood of emotions fill my body but then I see Petro is still thrashing around. Yes! She is bashing her fists against Marius but it does nothing to hurt him. The cannon must have been one of the others.

I reach the cornucopia and don't bother slowing down. I slam into Marius with full speed, knocking him off Petro and we both hit the ground. I go to get up but feel Marius grabbing at me. I slip through his grasps and get up.

"Watch out!" Petro screams.

I see the axe and manage to lean back, the blade slices through the air in front of me. Blaire lets out a battle cry as she lunges for me but I clench my fist together and slam it into her stomach. Blaire lets out a horrible sounding yell as she lurches forward from the pain. She must have been the one who was following me so she must still be with the careers. I throw her on Marius, that will slow them down.

I turn back to see Petro is still waiting for me. I'm shocked, I expected her to be gone by now. She grabs my hand and I can feel her shaking. This is the first time she actually seems 14, before she was so mature and brave but now she looks to me for help from fear.

We rush to the table. It has already been picked apart. I glance up and see no sign of Amethyst or Vicuna. I don't bother placing too much through into it. I grab one of the bags, throwing I over my shoulder and then stuff one of the canteens of water in the flap of the bag. Then we are off but not for long. Blaire skids right in front of us, stopping us from running. I instantly grab Petro and almost throw her to the side.

"Go!" I order her.

She listens and she is off, running for the jungle. I look back at Blaire, expecting a fight, but then she runs after Petro. No! But before I can go for Blaire I feel a hand grab my arm. I am pulled up against Marius and he wraps one of his arms around me well the other wraps around my throat. He is as strong as me, if not stronger, so it is a struggle for both of us. I can feel my lungs already on fire, wanting fresh air but I can't grant that request. I reach up to his face for a second I just shove my palm into the side of his head until I feel his eye. I dig my thumb into the eye and he lets out a scream but grabs my hair and pushes my head down. I feel my forehead meet with the stone of the table and instantly feel the blood gush down my face, partially blinding me. Everything is spinning and hurts but I can't give in. I grab my knife from my belt and swing behind me but he sees it before it reaches him and suddenly I'm thrown forward as he lets go. I don't bother staying to fight, I grab my bag and spear from the ground and run in the direction Petro went.

It doesn't take me long to lose the boy from 2 in the woods. I weave and dash through the trees and within minutes I can no longer hear his heavy footsteps behind me. I take a second to stop, wiping the blood from my eyes, then applying a quick layer of the healing gel I got from my sponsors and then I am off again. I can only keep track of Petro's path for so long before it vanishes at the river where I washed up on a week earlier. The soil and moss might tell where she went but the rocks won't. I decide to go up the river though, I'm bleeding too much and I know this is the snakes territory. If it comes out then I am screwed but it might be after Vicuna or Amethyst since they were not on the beach after I saved Petro. Either way I know I have at least 10 or 15 minutes to get out of the snakes reach otherwise it will be here ready to attack.

I pull off my button shirt and hold it against my head as I run along the river. I feel light headed but the gel has taken all the pain away so I keep going. After what feels like thirty minutes I stop, if the snake was after me it would be here by now. I sit down on a log that is partially in the water and slip off my shoes, placing them in the waters. The sensation is rejuvenating, the cool water washing over my sore feet. I dip my shirt in the waters and rinse the blood from it. After feeling my head and not being met with more blood I figure the wound has shut thanks to the gel, or at least stopped bleeding. I place the shirt back on. I also take the chance to drink the last of my water and then refill it in the river. The bag I got from the feast is tempting to open but I have stayed stationary long enough, I need to start moving. I gather my things, slip my shoes back on, and begin hiking up.

I go to the tree line and break a few branches and stomp on some of the plants. If the male from 2 is still following me, hopefully, he will see this and believe I ran into the jungle. He likely hasn't followed me. He is alone, Amethyst and Blaire abandoned him after other tributes. Marius will be looking to relocate up with them then decide which of the three tributes they chased will be the one they go after. I hope it isn't Petro or I.

An hour passes, then two, then three, I am left wondering if I should keep looking for Petro. I have carefully looked for any signs of where she could have plunged back into the jungle but see no disturbances. She is smart, even though she is starving and was in a hurry, she is still smart. She knows not to leave tracks. I figure I will keep going until the sun goes down and then I will find some place safe for the night to rest.

That's when I hear it, the cough followed by a moan. I instinctively ready my spear. I do a quick spin, looking around me for anyone who the sounds could belong to but no one is in sight.

"Petro?" I whisper, "Petro, where are you?"

I hear a twig snap to my left and whip around. I carefully creep up to the jungle.

"Petro?" I whisper again.

I move a branch out of the way and begin to walk into the thick shrub. For a second I see nothing but then from the corner of my eye, I see a shoe and a leg. I almost walked right past her. I quickly kneel down, lowering my spear.

"Petro are you-" I stop immediately and throw myself bag. My fingers grasp the spear as my back slams into the tree. In front of me lays Herminia. She is covered in blood and her hand grasps at her side. The careers, they have come for me, it is a trap. I glance at every direction, trying to see any signs of where the rest of the pack will be coming from. I can't run, if I run I could bolt into a trap or else a career. No, I need to know where they are before I run. Maybe I can climb the tree so they can't get me?

"I'm alone," Herminia chokes out.

Half of me says to not believe her but I see the fresh splatter of blood leave her lips as she talks. She isn't faking her injuries, the blood on her is her own. I'm still cautious though. I carefully step closer to Herminia, my spear aimed at her as I watch for any movement coming from the trees or bushes. Nothing even flinches.

"Where are the others?" I demand.

Herminia shakes her head from side to side.

"What happened? Who did this?" I ask.

"The girl...She...She got Marco and then s-she got me," Herminia struggles to even breath.

"where are your weapons?"

Herminia hesitates for a moment but then she reaches behind her and tosses over a knife and an axe. I know now that the other careers are not nearby and she is not waiting for me to lower my guard. If she had weapons she would have pounced on me by now and started slashing. If there were other careers they would have had more than enough time to get me. I lower my spear and kneel down.

I go to see her wound and gently pull her hand away. Herminia lets out a cry as I see it. It is deep and bleeds both puss and blood. This is old, though, maybe a day or two. Judging by the drag marks on the ground I figure she crawled here, maybe trying to get to the river.

"I'm not going to make it," Herminia gasps.

She is right. The wound is deep, she lost too much blood, and if puss is pouring from the wound then it is infected. Even if I wanted to, I'm not sure my medical gel would cure the infection. And if I did use it and the infection continued on, I would have wasted such a precious gift. No, even if I did use it she would die. She is beyond my saving. A sponsor could send down something that would have her fixed up in no time but if they haven't got her something yet they never will. They have abandoned her to die, either due to her being a bad bet or else the medicine being too much money to buy. And the careers likely abandoned her when they seen her condition. They don't deal with weak players. I'm surprised one of them didn't Finish her off cause she is right, she isn't going to make it. I look up at her, seeing her one brown eye looking at me through the bent glasses, her other still shut from when the glass got her.

"Sorry for the eye," I mumble.

This gets a slight smile from Herminia. "So you going to do it or what," she wheezes, "It will be easy, I won't fight."

I could easily do it, kill her. But something doesn't sit right with me. The fact that I would kill someone who can't even stand, who poses no threat to me. Everyone I have killed has tried to kill me in some way and their deaths still haunt me even though they were necessary. So what would this unnecessary death do? She must see the look in my eyes.

"Please," Herminia's voice goes up in pitch as I see tears dripping from her eyes. "I'm so scared...I'm in so much pain."

I know what that feels like. To be laying there crippled with agony and terrified. But I don't know what is like to look at death face to face, not the way she is right now. I had my close encounters but there was always a way out, always hope somehow. But there is no hope for Herminia. It has left her like the careers and sponsors have, waiting and watching for her to take her last breath and the cannon to go off. She isn't waiting for a miracle, she is waiting for a way out. And here I stand being able to grant that for her. What would happen if I didn't?

I have seen people bleed to death so many times in the games. Sometimes they just lay around and curl up in a ball until the cannon goes off. But sometimes the gamemakers have some fun with the person and give them a gory death, send in mutts to finish the person off in the most brutal way possible. Is that what will happen to her if I don't do this? To be ripped apart by massive spiders or swallowed whole by a snake? Maybe me killing her isn't killing her. Maybe it is helping her to evade more pain, terror, and brutality. If I was in her shoes I would rather some tribute make it quick rather than have gamemakers send something in to make my death the highlight of the show.

I give my head a quick nod and she breaks down in tears. But these aren't tears of joy, their fear. She wants death but is so scared of it. That's when I remember the photo, the one that was in the bag I had gotten from Herminia so many days ago. I slide my bag off my shoulder and dig into it. For a second I think it is gone, lost, but then I find it in the back. I pull it out and pass it to her.

She covers her mouth as I hold it in front of her. The two men having their arms around her as her parents stand in the background.

"They're my brothers," Herminia mumbles. She suddenly acts like one of the older ladies from my district who have only a handful of photos as proof of their memories and how they would sit someone down and introduce you to everyone in the photo and what was happening, like giving a glimpse into their life. "The one on the right, him. He's Venice. And the one on the...The right is Cato." She grabs the photo from my hands, "I wanted to see them again," she nods her head, "I thought I was going to see them again."

"You can say goodbye," I look at her, "They're watching right now."

Her eye flutters around trying to find a camera, it doesn't take her long to locate one. "I miss you-you guys so much...I love you." She suddenly cries harder, barely able to get through the final words. "I love you so much...Bye." She looks at me and gives me a nod.

I feel the lump in my throat, the water swelling behind my eyes. I fight through it though and grab the knife, the one she tossed to me. I look at her and she looks at me. I grab her and pull her into a hug, holding her tight. I can feel her body shaking, her one hand wrapped around me well the other grasps at the photo.

"It's ok," I whisper.

I close my eyes as I send the knife into the back of her neck and hear the cannon. The shaking stops, the crying. I feel her arms drop to the ground. But I don't let go. I give myself a few seconds to let out a few shaky breaths and try to get my emotions numbed down. Once I feel like collected I stand up.

Herminia looks so peacefully like she has fallen asleep. The fear, pain, and worry have gone. I kneel down, grabbing the photo from her grasp and tucking it into her pocket. As long as it is brought up with her body it will be taken back to her family. It belongs to them.

I gather my things, look back at Herminia, then walk into the jungle.


	23. Happy Birthday!

I remember one week we were worked to the bone. The Capitol had ordered more vehicles than they usually do. We thought we were making good progress but it wasn't good enough. We worked for three days straight, only given two or three hours of rest a day. Constantly having to lift, carry, and weld together the heavy parts. We didn't finish on time and two men paid for it. They got dragged to the square and all the workers were forced to watch as they were executed.

I came home and Clauria and mom grabbed me. They were crying and gripping me so tight their fingers threatened to break skin, even Michelle was worried. I was completely clueless and that was when I realized they heard two workers got executed and worried I was one of them. But I didn't care at the time, I was so tired. My body quivered with exhaustion and I struggled to keep my eyes open. Mom helped me to bed and I laid there for hours on end cause I was too tired to even roll over. That is how I feel now. All the time in this arena has been piling up and now it has reached its peak.

I lay down my bags on the ground, standing in a large open meadow full of tall grass. It is too open, too dangerous but it is at least another kilometre to the jungle and I can feel the blisters and cuts on my feet throbbing. I sit down and prop my back up against one of my bags and let out a few breaths. The arena is getting cold now that the sun is setting. It is a usual occurrence in the games for the arena to fluctuate temperatures near the end. Tundra's would get even more cold, deserts even more hot. Now we are batted with blistering heat in the day to chilling cold at night. But the body heat I have gathered from my constant movement is enough to repel the cold air, at least for now.

I watch the night sky. The moon starting to rise, the stars, that mixed with the sound of crickets is oddly comforting. I reach for the canteen of water and take sips of it well finishing off the last of the nuts and berries. I figure I could set up Vicuna's tent, it would keep me warm in the cold. Usually the tents offered in the arena are special, the material has been treated to regulate the perfect temperature. I know I could prop it up and be warm with no worries of the cold, but I don't want that.

The cold feels nice, it reminds me of the winters back at 6. The snowball fights I had with Clauria, sometimes mom would get pelted with one or two and join in. I liked the forest at winter too. The trees carried the pure white snow and it looked so clean, so white, so peaceful. The sounds of chickadees breaking the silence at random times. I'd bundle up and go out there, would just lay against a tree and read one of the old books mom still had. I have read them all at least twenty times, but it was all we had so I made do. I wanted to bring Markos there for a date. We would make this drink sometimes when we had enough food. We would crush up hazelnuts to a fine powder and mix it with heated goat milk. Clauria would steal a few pieces of chocolate from wealthy citizens and we would blend it together. I was going to do that and make Hulick since he loves it so much and take him out there. Not in his peacekeeper outfit, in a clothes that are normal in 6 - or at least like the Capitol scrubs he had on when he visited me at my house when Clauria seen him – We would just lay in that stretch of forest drinking the heated hazelnut drink and eating Hulick and being beside one another.

The beeping shifts me out of my daydream. My eyes flutter to see where it comes from. A silver parachute slowly drifts down and lands in my hands. For a second I just stare at the canister. What could they have sent me? I have medicine, food, water, weapons. And this canister is large, larger than most that get sent down. I open it and see a white cloth covering the interior but a note lays on the cloth. "Happy Birthday! - Your family back at 6." For a second I am taken back by the message. Birthday? It can't be that long. I tend to usually forget my actual birthday. We celebrated it about a week before the Reaping every year since celebrating it during the games was always depressing. My birthday just slowly molded into a normal day well some random day before the Reaping became the time to celebrate. But today is it. It hasn't changed though, the feeling. I still feel depressed, even more so since now I'm not just having to watch the games but I'm actually in them. Markos said he had something big planned for my birthday before I left, since it was my first birthday as a couple. I wonder what he had planned.

I wave the note up for the cameras to see. "Woo, Seventeen," I mumble and give a partial smile, "Quite the birthday."

I try my best to seem happy. I know the cameras are all on me right now. My family will be watching this. I can see mom on the couch smiling but crying, Clauria holding her, Michelle would be pulled into a hug, Markos would be in the building meant to house peacekeepers, he never works this late in nights. And I want to be happy for them, give them a moment where it isn't the games but a celebration, a family moment shared between a lens and a screen. And if I don't make it out of the games I want to at least give them one last family moment.

I pull off the white cloth and see the basket full of goods. There is chocolate cake with rich frosting, Some candies, strawberries and other fruit, bread with some white sauce on top, cheese, and apples. But these things aren't what catch my eye. It's the pictures. Family pictures. Ones that I don't even know how the Capitol has gotten them. There is the family photo my mom had gotten done when I was young, there is one that has us in the square looking like a family. But how? It is in colour, it's new and beautiful, no way this was taken by a camera in 6, how did the Capitol get this? And then there is one of Markos, his peacekeeper photo that every peacekeeper gets when they graduate. If they have this then I know he has already ran to the Capitol shouting about how he is the one I talked about during my interviews. Oblivious to how much danger he just threw himself into. But I don't bother to think about it too long.

I set up the tent which is a bit trickier than I thought it would be. I move everything inside, it is warm already. My fingers grasp at the photos as I lay down staring at them. It has been three weeks since I seen any of these people, seeing their faces in photos is refreshing but also hurts. How they are so far away and I can't do anything about it...Well, I can...

I look at the basket, at the cake. I cut off one of the slices and eat cake with strawberries well laying in the warm tent. The cake is so rich and sweet that after the first slice I feel sick so I decide to just stick with the fruit and bread. I gorge myself on that but figure I should pace myself. "Thank you," I say to the cameras as I wipe my face.

The anthem plays and I hurry out of the tent. I watch the sky as the Capitol seal appears. The female from 2 is shown, Herminia. I can feel that lump in my throat but fight it off. Then the next death is shown and I'm surprised. It's Vicuna.


	24. Family Ties

Vicuna was smart, extremely smart. How she made such intricate traps, had figured out the spider mutts so early, how she had that act of a stupid girly girl – least I think it was an act – for people to overlook her, even using me to get information. The fact that she is dead is stunning. I thought for her to rush into the feast like she did she would have had some plan or trap where she could easily rid any followers she had. Maybe she did and just couldn't execute it in time. Whatever reason, she is gone now. _Only 6 of us left...Five more until I get to go home._

But that is going to be a difficult task. Blaire, Amethyst, and Marius are all still alive, they are strong and healthy. From the looks of it too they show no signs of turning on each other. So that means either the gamemakers would have to take them out, which I can't seem them doing this late in the game, or else a tribute will have to do it. I know I've killed three careers. Dazzle almost killed me but Herminia and the girl from 4 hardly count as kills since I got one out of surprise and the other she wanted me to kill her. But the three left, they are the strongest of the pack, taking one of them down will be difficult let alone all three. Maybe I can find Petro and we can come up with a plan to take out the remaining pack.

I remember a victor from 9 a few years ago. She was so small and weak and no one thought she would win but she managed to make it to the finale. There were two careers and her and everyone was just waiting for her to die and the last two careers to fight for the win among themselves, but that isn't how it went down. She had tricked one into quicksand and killed the other by leading him into a trap. We watched as the pile of leaves gave way under him and he got impaled on wooden spikes below and the little girl from 9 that no one had thought would win pulled out the victory. Petro and I could do something like that, trick the careers and kill them. We can easily outsmart them.

But if we do that then it will just be her and I. Wait no there is one other tribute. I still can't bring myself to remember who it is. But what will happen if that is the turnout? Petro and I left to fight for the win? The audience would likely bet on me, believing Petro would be an easy kill for someone like me. But they don't know her like I do. Throughout most of the time in the Capitol, I had underestimated her and she proved me wrong every chance she got. A showdown with Petro would be difficult, she would know I could beat her in strength or brutality so she would turn the finale around. Lead me into a trap, poison me, attract a mutt to finish me off. Suddenly I find myself fearing Petro more than the career pack. With the careers, I at least know what to expect. Petro, on the other hand, is mysterious.

The sun brings back the blistering heat, the tent, however, keeps it cool. I want to stay in it, just stay here all day and night again, but that would be suicide. I am too exposed in this open field and with a large black tent set up I mind as well have a sign that says "Come kill me." I decide to finish off the cake. It's a lot but it won't survive the constant traveling. I drink some of the water and I am as full as I was on the day I was on the train heading to the Capitol.

I remember the bag I got from the feast and decide to open it. I find a tent...How helpful. There is another canteen of water, equalling to 4 canteens, a loaf of bread, a sleeping bag, first aid kit, and some night-vision goggles. I only know they are night-vision since I have seen them in the games before. I figure that the bag was just added weight more than something that helps me. But I would rather carry it then leave it and benefit another tribute.

I pack up my supplies and try to erase all signs o my camp as best as I can. I continue west. I figure this will likely be the place where Petro would have ran. She would go to a place she knows and I was all over the northern and eastern ends of the arena and didn't see a single sign of her so she must have some camp in this direction. At least I hope.

I construct an umbrella out of the tarp, tent poles, and some rope. it shields my body from the hot sun, it helps a little so I keep it. I know the careers will be after Petro and I. If Vicuna is dead that leaves just her and I to be hunted that attended the feast so they will be coming for one of us, their weapons drawn, their thirst for blood. So every few minutes I stop and listen but nothing but birds can be heard. I like the sounds of the birds. They bring some kind of joy to such a dark place. It is really hard to see it as a dark place, though. Some of the sights I see are so breathtaking I stop for a few seconds to admire it.

I reach a lake that has two skinny, steep mountains on each side and a low mist. I stop here and pull my bag off my shoulders. The straps of carrying the bag for so many days have begun to dig into my skin. Small cuts and bruises lay on my upper shoulder and around my waist where the second strap goes. The injuries I had are almost fully healed. The one on my bicep and chest are now just scars thanks to the medical gel. The one on my inner-shoulder and back are still bad but not as bad as they were a few days ago. I was worried about the gash I had on my head from the feast but the gel stopped the bleeding and upon feeling it I am met with the rough surface of scabs so it must not have been as deep. I figure I must have lost enough blood to fill my body at least twice. The sugar from the cake might help boost my energy, though.

I slip into the waters of the lake and it is cool. I let out a sigh of relief and slide the rest of me in. I take off both my shirts and pants, using two rocks to scrub the stains and blood from them. The undershirt is so torn that I consider not using it anymore but I hate to throw it away so I keep it. I want to wash my underwear as well but I know if there are no fights or strategy talks I will be featured. The Capitol people love watching a guy go shirtless or a girl take off all her clothes. I found it awkward, sort of invading the person's space, but they drooled over seeing muscles on a guy or a thin girl. So if I am being featured I would rather not be fully exposed. I lay the clothes out to dry and then dive into the water. I always loved swimming. We had a small lake on the outskirts of 6 where a lot of the people would go in summers to swim, usually on Sundays since that was the day everyone had off. I would go out there whenever I could and swim but there was always loads of people, but this lake doesn't have that problem. I dip my head under the water before diving down and then surfacing. I swim on my back then roll and end up just floating for a bit well staring at the sky. I have so much fun I forget I am being hunted for a moment. I get out of the lake and sit down to dry well eating one of the apples and drink some water. As odd as the feeling is I don't want to leave this place and if I do I want to come back. The lake is beautiful and cooling. The shimmering of fish's scales shine through the waters meaning it is abundant of food. I could easily stay here till finale, but I need to find Petro.

I get dressed, throw my bag back on, and head out. The water oasis vanishing in the trees. I have the urge to rub some of the medical gel on my feet, it would cure the cuts and blisters in no time. But I feel like that would be a waste, besides this is a bearable pain. I know I would be kicking myself for using the gel on something so small as cut up feet if I was to get another deep cut in my back or chest. I find some bandages in the first aid kit and wrap my feet up instead. It protects my skin from the harsh drag of the shoes so the blisters don't form and cuts don't get bigger. It helps.

The sun begins to set and I figure it is time to set up camp. I find a dip in the ground that is surrounded by bushes and ferns. I set my tent up in there and make up a small nest with my bag and sleeping bag. I lay down and look at the pictures I got in my basket. I kinda see now what Markos said about gaining a little weight. He was a peacekeeper for about a year now. He looks a lot thinner in the picture, his jawline more pronounced and his cheeks less plump than they are now. He still has his mesmerizing blue eyes but his golden blonde hair has been combed to the side.

I figure I poke some fun at him since he was likely bragging and exaggerating some of the stories about him and I. I sit at the opening of the tent and hold the picture up so the cameras can see. "You were so muscular and thin, what happened?" I smile. That comment alone has probably traumatized him worse then the Hunger Games ever could to me. I laugh at just the thought of it. "Nah, I like you how you are," I smile, "You are cuddly and warm." That probably isn't making it any better but it is true. He isn't chubby like some of the other men in District 6. He only has a small pudge around his belly and his chest is a little more softer. I did like it though. He was actually nice to cuddle with. I figure I should tell the story of how he saved me. Mostly since mom never knew about Markos so I mostly mean it to tell her but it can't hurt the sponsor flow. I talk about how I was beaten by morphling addicts and was left to die. How Markos found me and carried me into the hub. I leave out the part how I thought he was going to kill me because I don't think that would mix well with the Capitol. I talk about how he bandaged me up and then laid beside me to keep me warm. I say how I fell in love right there and never wanted to leave his side which is a lie, sort of, I didn't want to leave his side but it was only because I was freezing and he was actually pretty warm. Plus I didn't fall in love with him right there, I was focused on survival at that point. It was maybe about a week or two when I actually got feelings but I know how the Capitol loves mushy love stories so I exaggerate my feelings and how I felt at that moment. Then I trail off and before I know it I am giving the entire nation story after story. I say how he loves Hulick, he came to my house to give food and Clauria saw him, how he got lost in the streets of District 6, and how he keeps trying food in 6 but has a hard time getting it down.

But it branches off from him. I hold up the picture of my family and begin telling stories of them. I point to Clauria and tell the nation how she is the most determined, ambitious, smartest person in 6. I say how she would have gone through these games with ease, cause she would. "She holds us all together," I say, "She is so bossy she even bosses our mom around." It is not uncommon to see Clauria telling mom she needs to go to the market and get something or else telling her to start supper. Mom usually is right on time for breakfast but she gets caught up in her wood carvings or else staring at the wall that she forgets about supper. Clauria and I could easily make it ourselves but it gets mom moving and doing something so we always just make her do it, well Clauria does.

I point to my mom in the picture. "She could carve a chunk of wood into a million dollar pendant in just a few hours," I say. I remember seeing how precise and quick her fingers moved around the wood as she slides the knife so gracefully around the image she had mentally projected into the wood. She could get more coins then what the locals give us for them but they know we are starving and poor and take advantage of that. I tell the camera the story about how she is so protective that one-day Clauria had screamed because a man tried stealing the berries she picked that morning. Mom was outside and had the broom in hand. She snapped the broom in two over her knee, something that even startled me. She ran at the guy with the two pointed parts of the broom and he was gone within seconds. She had a massive bruise on her knee from snapping it but the morphling blocked any pain.

I then get to Michelle and for a second I have no words. For so long she has laid in her room dripping morphling into her veins or else lumbering around District 6 like a ghost haunting the lands. How she has caused so much panic and worry not just in my but Clauria and mom as well. Before though she was great. She was nice and caring and beautiful. Her hair was so long and wavy, her eyes glowed with excitement, her skin radiant. But now her skin sags and is yellow well her eyes look as if death has already taken her. "She was a good sister," I mumble.

"Toben was a good brother too...We used to play in the meadows by our house. We were fascinated, fascinated, with how the butterflies could leave the fence line." I remember sitting with Toben watching as the butterflies flew through the fence that surrounds 6. We would wonder where they went to, what was beyond the fence? I tell how we would wrestle over the smallest things like who got a chance to play with this old ball we had found in a puddle. Mom split us up and had to make us share it and we ended up just playing keep away with it. I guess it was kind of sharing since it was a game the both of us could play.

Before I know it I feel the tears streaming down my cheeks. All these people, the memories, the things that make me...Me. I'm once again afraid of just being a memory like Toben is now, like how Michelle is. Someone that only comes alive when people talk about how they knew me or what we did in the past. Buried in the back of peoples mind waiting alone and sad for someone to bring me back for only just a moment. But it would only be bittersweet since it would cause the people pain to bring up such memories, to bring me back for that moment I would crave. No one likes pain. So I would be left in the back of their minds, buried in thoughts and memories like Toben is. I bring my knees up to my chest, feeling the cool air brush against my wet face. "I miss you guys so much," I say.

I decide that is enough camera time and I crawl into the tent, zipping up the door. I lay in my sleeping bag, using the tarp and cloth I got with the gift basket yesterday as a pillow. I bring my backpack into the hug since it feels like someone is there with me and I'm not alone. I don't think I have ever felt so alone as I have felt in the past three weeks. No faces are shown and I drift off to asleep. But it doesn't last long. At some point in the night, hours later I hear it. The scream breaks the chirps of birds and crickets, echo through the trees and ferns. Petro's scream.


	25. Manners

I swing the backpack over my shoulders, I grab the sleeping bag and I'm out of the tent, crashing through the woods. I don't have time to slip the sleeping bag in my bag so I resort to tying it around my waist. I keep moving, trying to pinpoint where I heard the scream but it is silent now. There is no cannon so she isn't dead. She might be hiding.

I keep running in the direction where I heard the screams. I hear them, the career pack. They are further away but their loud footsteps and laughing silence the birds and monkeys. The careers could be using her, torturing her so she screams and I come running, that way they would get both tributes from District 6 in one night. But I don't care, even as the thought enters my mind I keep running. She is my only tie back to 6 and if I don't win then she needs to and right now she needs my help and I will not sit back and let her be killed.

I break into a small clearing and glance around. I can now see the light of the careers torches and flashlights moving closer, their words can't be made out but I can hear they are talking to each other. They are getting too close. Maybe I will be able to dive into the bush if they get close to me, the dark will be enough to keep me hidden from them. But for now, I need to find Petro.

I run in the same direction, crashing through the trees and then suddenly there is no trees but a long river. There she is. Petro lays at the side of the river soaking wet. Her emaciated body barely fits in the clothes anymore, from where I stand I can see the rope around her waist to keep her pants from falling down. She lays unconscious and from the puddle of blood that has formed around her, she has been struck by one of the careers.

I run over to her and don't bother trying to wake her up or check if she is alright. There is no time for that and no cannon has fired so she is still alive. I scoop her up in my arms and now know that she has really lost weight. She is so light I could hold her with one hand and not struggle. How has she gotten to this point and how has she managed to keep on the move? Those are questions for later, however. I hold her gently with both arms, cupping her like a newborn baby and I am off.

I decide the risk of crossing the river is worth it, the careers won't know I was here and won't think Petro was able to cross it herself in her weak state. Or maybe they will think she just got washed further down, either way, I want to get across since it places a river between us and the careers. I keep my legs spread apart and make sure to test where I am about to step before placing my full weight on it. I wade through the water. I almost slip near the middle, it drops to my stomach and the current threatens to wash me away but I manage to wedge my foot between two larger rocks and it gives me just enough leverage to take a big step and I'm back to the shallower side of the river. I reach the other end and bolt into the jungle. I take this chance to glance back. The careers are just coming up to the river now.

I run through the jungle carrying Petro in my arms. After what seems like an hour I finally stop. I rest Petro against a fallen log and dig for my medical gel. Petro has a large gash that runs from her armpit down to her stomach. Already I am afraid she has lost too much blood but I use the gel anyways. I apply a light coat and watch as the blood almost instantly stops pouring out. I only have one, maybe two, good uses of the gel so I need to be careful with how often I apply it to Petro. Once the gel is applied and the bleeding stops I pick her up again and take off in the same direction.

It doesn't take long for us to reach the beach. The glowing of the ocean allows me to see down the entire beach. It stretches further than the two other sides of the arena I have been at. It is curved like a crescent moon. On the far end it has a steep cliff but on the other end, the beach goes into a cave. That is where we can hide.

I rush to the cave. The mouth is only a foot or two taller than me and it bends to the left where there is a small circular area. I use my lantern to illuminate the inside and make my way in. I set Petro down in the corner and work on setting up the second tent. Funny how just a day ago I thought how useless it was to have two tents, now I see how useful it actually is. Hopefully, the careers discover the other one I had set up and left behind, maybe they will think I fled when I heard them and they will go further into the jungle rather than in our direction. Once I have the tent set up I bring Petro in and give her the sleeping bag. I fold the tarp into a pillow and slide it under her head and then prop myself up against my bag at the side of the tent.

The waves crashing against the beach threaten to lull me to sleep. Actually a few times in the night it does but I manage to shake myself back awake and continue staring out of the cave. It is a boring and tedious task but I feel it is necessary since we were so close to the careers. I know Amethyst or Marius won't be able to track, heck they probably won't know what a footprint looks like. But Blaire might possess the skill. No one makes an appearance, though, besides a few birds. I don't bother trying to catch them since I know they are too agile for me to come close to getting.

The ocean slowly turns back to the normal look of water as the sun rises. Petro still sleeps. I feel it is because she is exhausted rather than the loss of blood since she seems to show no actual symptoms of blood loss.

I make my way out of the cave and have the urge to go swimming in the ocean but I know the sharks will have me before I have time to get knee deep in the water. I lay down on the clear warm sand. I don't know what else to do with myself. I have more than enough food and water and I can't move since I am tethered to Petro. I do have the thought to leave her. I saved her from the careers and the gel will do its work and save her life. She will wake up in a few hours and have a second chance at the games. The only reason I even consider this is because I would rather not be in the final 2 with her. None of the districts like a victor who has killed their own district partner, even if they were in the final 2.

I alternate between sitting in the tent and sitting on the beach. I fiddle with some sticks and even try making a trap like one of the ones Vicuna had at her camp but I can't even figure out how to lay a trip wire let alone make it work so I give up. I remember the snares though and end up setting up a few in the jungle. Then the whole day I want to just keep checking them since it gives me something to do but I stop myself since I know it will scare away the animals.

The sun begins to set and I head back to the tent and lay down. I try to stay awake as long as I can but after a few hours I can hardly keep my eyelids open and I end up laying beside Petro and drifting off. When I wake up I begin to worry since Petro is still asleep. I wonder if maybe she is close to death. But maybe she hasn't had any rest in the arena, that with the lack of food and the physical exhaustion maybe her body is getting as much rest as it can.

I know they're doctors in District 6 who could have someone up and awake within minutes. It was odd how District 6's industry was transportation yet we had such skilled doctors and an abundance of drugs to use. I heard stories that before the Dark Days District 6 was in charge of making medicine for the Capitol but after the rebellion, the Capitol changed it to transportation since they needed to build up their armory. Maybe some of the healers before just passed on the knowledge from generation to generation. Maybe that is how my dad knew how to make morphling. Maybe he was just waiting till we were older to pass on the medical knowledge but never had the chance.

I sip some of the water and eat the last apple. I figure it is time to check the snares and I head out. Most of them lay empty except for one which yields this creature that looks like a large evil-looking rat. Food is food, though. Gutting it is easy, I slide the knife up its body and take out all the organs, tossing them in the ocean. Skinning it, however, is confusing and I end up ripping some of the meat. It takes me a good hour to both skin and clean the creature but I get it done and left with a good portion of meat plus the heart and liver of it since I know those are edible. I make my way back to the cave to get some matches. I'm in the mouth of the cave when I see the tent is empty, from where I stand the door to the tent lays open and the sleeping bag is without Petro.

Before I have time to react a chunk of wood swings out from the side and slams right into my face. I feel my nose crack and I stumble but lose my footing and fall right on my back. My vision is blurry from the tears that begin to naturally fill my eyes from being hit in the face. I manage to see through them, though. Petro goes to make a run for it. I grab her legs and yank her to the ground.

"It's me!" I yell.

She is squirming. She is trying to get away and stares at the jungle but I pull her closer and hold her arms down, pressing my knee into her legs. I don't push though since she is so skinny and I'm afraid I will hurt her if I apply too much force.

"Look, it's me," I say.

Petro catches a glimpse of me and then she calms down, looking around.

"W-where am I?"

"A beach at the edge of the arena," I say.

"How did I get here?" she asks.

"I carried you. The careers were after you. I found you and brought you here."

She is calm now and tugs at her arms and legs. "Get off me."

I listen and let her go and she gets to her feet, walking to the cave.

"A thank you would be nice," I say.

"Do you have food?" She doesn't bother for an answer. She goes into the tent and pulls out the loaf of bread I got from the feast and begins eating. All those years being rich really taught her some manners.

"I know you are hungry but we need to watch how much we eat," I walk into the tent, sitting beside her.

"You caught a possum so obviously you can get more food," Petro takes another bite of the bread.

"A possum?" I have never heard of a possum ever.

"That thing," She points to the carcass of the animal I had just skinned.

"It's edible right?" I ask but only met with a blank stare.

She takes another chunk of bread and offers it to me like it is her loaf of bread and she is being generous. I don't bother taking it and she eats it. Within a few minutes, the entire loaf is gone.

"Why'd you save me?" She asks.

"That's a stupid question. I heard you and came running cause we are partners. You would have done the same thing for me," I say.

"I wouldn't have," She digs in my bag, pulling out water and drinking most of the canteen. "I should go. Good luck."

she gets up and walks out of the cave. Never in my life have I met such a rude person, well maybe I have but I just figured she would be a more thankful or else willing to stick together. Not eat all my food and then leave. I get up and chase after her.

"Why aren't we sticking together," I say.

"Cause only one of us can win," she replies.

"Doesn't mean we can't help each other."

"that is exactly what it means."

She is just entering the jungle.

"I have food, you don't," I say.

This stops her in her tracks. I know by the looks of her she will starve and get weaker. The careers will find her and finish her off and if they don't then the gamemakers will send something in to finish her off cause the audience will grow tired of watching her trying to gather food and get closer to death with every passing minute. But I know what is edible and what isn't and know snares now so I can catch other animals. Plus she has medical training and is smart so we could easily help one another.

"One more death," Petro says, "We will stick together until one more person dies then we part ways."


	26. Sibling rivalry

Petro might do more damage being an ally than an enemy. She eats most of my food and drinks most of the water, though she has volunteered to venture off to go get water from a small pond she knows of. She goes through my supplies without asking which gets on my nerves more than it should. Then she continues to criticize how I placed the tent and says we should take it down and go to the cliff face and find a ledge where we can sleep. I think our cave set up is fine. The medical gel did its work and mostly healed her wounds, enough that she is able to manage it. She does also help my broken nose but she did cause it when she hit me with the chunk of wood.

"The Capitol is probably in an uproar that you ruined my face," I joke with her as she cleans the wound.

"Oh yeah, forgot how desirable you are," Petro doesn't even crack a smile. She is careful as she snaps the nose back in place with makes me flinch in pain. She orders me not to move and uses the medical kit to dress the small cut on the side of the nose. I thank her, she just hands me the kit.

Petro also seems to have knowledge on animals. Whether this was picked up in the training at the Capitol or not is unknown to me but it is helpful. Two of the snares catch mouse-like creatures with long snouts and she orders me to throw them away cause they are poisonous. I feel like a child being told what to do by her all the time but I don't argue. I know she is a survivor and I plan to just piggy back that skill for as long as we are allies. I'm sure Clauria would love Petro. They would get along famously.

The sun sets and no deaths today. I'm worried that the audience might start to get bored since there hasn't been a death for so long. Or maybe Petro's and I's constant bickering and unsteady alliance are enough to keep the audience busy, at least for now. Maybe the gamemakers will target the careers since they seem to spend most their time laying at the cornucopia and Petro and I are bringing some kind of entertainment. If you win the audience over then you don't have to worry about the gamemakers tricks, usually. The people would rather see someone they don't care for be chased by fire or mutts rather than a tribute that they adore. I guess that is like the game within the game, to win the audience over.

Petro takes the sleeping bag for herself so I end up using the tarp as a blanket. We do alternate between sleeping and watching for the careers. I expect Petro to wake me up early for my shift so she ca get more sleep but to my surprise, she doesn't. Morning comes and we get whatever got trapped in our snares and clean them. I make a fire and we cook the animal meat and have a good breakfast.

"Why haven't you eaten?" I ask.

"Because I don't know what is edible," Petro says almost like it was an obvious conclusion, "I seen the male from 11 harvesting fruit. He was throwing berries and other fruit away after looking them over so thought most the stuff was poison."

"Is that how he died?" I ask. I remember his cannon, it scared me so bad I almost dropped into the ocean and got eaten by sharks.

"No, one of the careers got him," She says.

We finish breakfast and I take her out to the jungle and show her what I know. The berries that Vicuna showed me are edible along with the avocados. We even find bananas and grab some of them. We are walking back to the beach when she says it.

"Thank you," Petro mumbles.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" I smile. I feel like she and I have more of a sibling relationship. Her being this young girl who thinks she is much older and acts superior well I'm the older brother that just pokes fun at her all the time.

"You heard it," Petro grumbles.

"Yes but I don't think Panem heard it," I say, "Once more for the cameras."

"If they didn't hear it then guess it sucks to be them," She says and walks faster.

I rush up beside her, wrapping my arm around her and squeezing her, her face be shoved into my side. She mutters what I can only imagine would be a surprising vocabulary for someone so young but it isn't audible since I hold her face in my side. She hits me with her fists but she is much weaker, especially now since she has starved for so long.

"Sorry," I laugh, "What was that? I can't hear you."

She suddenly bites my side and I let out a yelp as I let her go. She slaps the side of my face. She is obviously not too pleased with me. From the look on her face, I wonder if she knew I was playing around.

"I said, You better behave yourself or I'm going to have to break your nose again." She gives a raise of her head like she is better, then a grin, and she turns back to the beach.

"You couldn't even reach my nose," I say as I follow her out of the jungle onto the beach. "What are you like four foot nothing?"

She doesn't respond back. I look at her and she stands on the beach staring at something, a parachute. The silver object shines brightly in the sun and holds a canister. It stops beeping as we enter its area. Why is she just staring at it? I have grown used to the parachutes now but has she even gotten one? She looks at it like it is the win right there, just feet away. But then her expression goes from amazement to hatred.

"It's probably for you," she snaps and then storms off into the cave, not wanting to bare witness to gift inside.

I watch as she enters the cave and then approach the silver parachute. I open it and see the note. "Keep up the good work! - Caliper." Suddenly my heart sinks cause I know it is my gift. If it was for Petro Fascia would be the one who got to write the note, not Caliper. I look at the gift and see the bread with soup. I don't want this. I glance back at the cave, seeing Petro curled up in the tent.

I crumple the note, tossing it into the ocean before closing the canister. I save the parachute since I feel like Petro can find some way to use it. She might be able to make one of the traps that Vicuna so easily designed. Petro definitely has the smarts for it and patience. I plop the parachute in the cave and then crawl into the tent.

"It's for you," I say like I am disappointed to try and sell the lie.

"What?" Petro looks shocked.

"the note, it's from Fascia not Caliper so it's yours." I set the gift beside her. I don't care if this hurts my sponsor flow. Petro was obviously distraught about never getting a sponsor so I feel like giving her a little hope will be better than anything the sponsors can send.

She quickly opens it and finds the soup and bread and the brightest smile appears on her face. I can't help but grin at the sight of it. She doesn't hesitate and digs right in. Ripping off chunks of the bread and dipping it in the soup. She offers me some too but I shake my head. She needs the food more than I do.

I get up and say I will check the snares but that too is a lie. I just want to evacuate the area as quickly as possible since I know when the hype of getting the gift is over she will be wondering where the note went to. I'd rather leave and have her think she misplaced it somewhere rather than asking me questions. She doesn't argue about checking the snares, too happy about her gift. I walk into the jungle, not bothering to get close to the snares since it was only just recently that we grabbed what animals had gotten caught in them.

Instead, I wonder around the jungle. I gather some avocados. Tomorrow morning I will bring Petro here to gather the ones on thinner branches since she will be able to gather them without risk. I pack the avocados I got in my pockets.

I notice something, the trees shaking, the leaves rattling. But there is no wind. I glance around, expecting a mutt to break through the jungle and charge at me but suddenly the ground moves. It sounds like an explosion has just gone off and the ground shakes so violently I can't stand. I drop onto my hands and knees and scurry to the base of a tree. My head begins to hurt and I get dizzy so I grasp the tree and close my eyes, holding it as hard as I can. There is a cracking sound and I'm jerked to the left but I keep my eyes slammed shut, gripping onto the tree which now I can feel is leaning to the left. I feel as if a larger animal has me in its jaws and begins to shake the life out of me. The ground sounds as if it itself is screaming in terror as trees crash together.

I am thrown off the tree. I try to get to my feet but the force throws me into a different tree, one that has already fallen. I lay flat against it and keep my eyes closed, hearing something heavy smash into the ground beside me. My breath is thickened with dirt and dust and I begin to cough so heavily I might vomit. I try to suck in a breath but am only meant with more dirt, more dust, even a leaf finds its way into my mouth. Something else heavy smashes by my feet but I roll onto my stomach and begin to vomit. It burns but my mouth no longer is left dry. I want to get up and run, to escape this sudden hell, but there is no way I'd be able to stand let alone run. I feel my body tensing up to try and force more bile from my body but nothing comes up. I begin to crawl along the tree that has fallen, hoping to find some protection from the airborne dirt in the leaves. I feel the leaves moving against my face and suddenly the shaking has stopped.

I open my eyes but everything is spinning, I'm too dizzy to work my way to my feet. I lay on the ground for a few minutes until the feeling goes away and then carefully I open my eyes. I am met with destruction. Numerous trees have been unrooted and lay on the ground or on top of one another. There is a cloud of dirt and dust in the air which burns at my eyes and lungs, I can't see more than a few feet in front of me. Did the gamemakers send in explosions to scare us closer to the others? What happened? I'm dazed, confused, and feel like I am about to vomit again. I stumble to a tree that is still upright and lean against it. I brush my hand against my face and feel a thick layer of grime. I try to take another step but I am wobbly and have to grab another tree. That's when I remember Petro.

"Petro!?" I scream. But my throat burns at raising my voice and I end up being attacked with coughs. It takes me awhile to get my breath back and I stumble forward again but this time I drop onto my knees. I look back to see the ground has cracked. I crawl on my hands and knees until I reach the beach. I use a tree to help me to my feet then I stumble out into the opening of the beach.

A few trees lay on the sand which seems untouched by the shaking. The cliff on the side of the beach has broken and half of it lays in a pile of rocks and boulders. I glance to the cave and see it is still standing but a pile of boulders blocks the entrance. Petro is sealed inside.


	27. she'll go peacefully

I stumble forward until I am against the cave. I press my weight against the rocks but nothing but a few pebbles give. I smash my fist against it but it only sends pain up my arm.

"Petro," I try to say but it comes out like a whisper. The dirt thrown into the air coats my mouth and throat making it difficult to speak like the gamemakers themselves have stolen my voice. I wonder if Petro could have died but the thought is immediately thrust from my mind. They would have blown open the mouth of the cave or more likely the top of it so the hovercraft could reach in and collect the body. Since the cave is still intact I know she is alive in there. "Petro," I gasp again. No answer.

I try to push my entire body weight against sections of the rubble but nothing gives. I feel my breath get wheezy and I have to stop due to the light headed feeling I begin to get. I drop to the ground by the cave. I would do anything for water at this moment. All my supplies were in the cave, I never thought of bringing a canteen of water or snacks with me when I left. The ocean is in front of me but is salt water and also infested with the sharks. I resort to just eating some of the avocados. It does little to actually quench my thirst but it helps with the burning in my mouth and throat and wets the areas as well.

I decide to venture out into the woods for water. I take a few minutes rest to catch my breath and let all the dust settle back down and then I work my way up. My legs still feel like jelly but I can keep my balance now. I stumble into the jungle, seeing the destruction that has been caused. It looks as if a bomb has just wiped through the area, leaving fallen trees and cracked earth in its wake. I go in the direction I always seen Petro travel when she went to go fill the canteens. I don't know if I am just slow or if I am going the wrong way because it feels like I have been traveling for too long. I sit down to take another breather and then backtrack. Still nothing. Could she have gone the wrong direction on purpose to throw me off, waiting till she was out of my sight to quickly change to a different direction, where the water actually laid? I wouldn't put it past Petro, it would mean she was at an advantage, exactly where she likes to be.

I find my way back to the beach, bang on the cave, no answer. I need to get the water and it is a good task to do well I wait for Petro to come conscious in the cave so she can help me dig her out. I use sticks to help me. I walk in a direction for a few dozen minutes, if nothing turns up I go back, plant a stick in the direction I went then try a different one, working in a semi-circular motion. It begins to become torture after just two hours. My lungs burn, my throat is back to its dry painful feel, and I am dizzy again. I take a seat every few minutes to catch my breath. By late evening I finally find it.

The small pond sits in a minor clearing. You could easily miss it from only a few feet away. The water is clear and sits on a bed of moss and ferns. There is songbirds that fly from branch to branch around the pond and insects that buzz through the air. I have a feeling this is around where Petro spent most her time, within walking distance of this place. Maybe that is why she didn't want me to know its true location, since when we did part ways I wouldn't be coming here and ruining her spot to get water. I don't bother purifying it, the water in the arena has been safe to drink thus far so I figure this pond is too. I dunk my head into the water and begin to gulp down mouth fulls. I bring my head up to breath and then back down to drink again. It feels so nice against my throat and dry mouth and makes it easier to breath. Once I have gotten my fill I dunk my head and hands into the water, washing the dirt from my skin. I'm surprised when I lift my head to see that the entire section of the pond has turned a murky brown brown what I just washed off.

I get up and make my way back to the cave. "Petro!?" I call out, this time my voice is much louder and clearer. Still no answer. I bang my hand against the rocks. "Petro, are you okay!?" I yell. No answer. I stumble back, wondering how I am going to get her out when my foot hits water. I jump forward and glance back, seeing the ocean has risen at least 10 inches since the last time I saw it. The panic sets in immediately. They are raising the water level to push us together, yes, but that isn't what I panic about. It means I a on the clock to save Petro. Within hours the cave will be underwater and surrounded by sharks, even if she is alive I will be useless in aiding in her escape. This lights a fire under me and I begin to desperately claw and punch at the rocks. I manage to get a few melon sized rocks clear but always one falls to take its place. It never seems to end but I keep on digging. The skin on my fingers begins to break and two of my fingernails rip off before I finally stop, panting and heaving for air.

I hear the anthem play and glance back, maybe there was a cannon during the quake but no faces are shown. The water now splashes at the entrance of the cave with its eerie blue glow. The same glow which allows me to see the shadows of the sharks that swim eagerly awaiting a meal. I need to get the cave open, I need to do it now!

I force myself to my feet and begin clawing at the entrance again. Little bits give but nothing major and I have the thought of just leaving Petro behind and saving myself but I know I would never be able to live with myself with that choice if I d live past these games. I feel the water begin to rise higher and higher and know the time is running out. I grab a large chunk of rock and lift it free.

The sound of water splashing is the first thing I hear and then the violent ripping off my pants. My leg comes out from under me and I land on my butt. I look to see one of the sharks has got me but it bit too soon and holds to the leg of my pants in the tip of its mouth. I rip my pants leg free and get to my feet, gripping the rock as I do. The shark swims towards me again, its fins poking out from the water. I raise the rock and send it down, hearing the loud THUNK as it meets with the head of the shark. The shark shakes violently but I lift the rock again and send it down, this time there is a cracking sound and the shark lays still occasionally twitching. But I see them, the other sharks beginning to move in.

I climb up the pile of rocks, getting out of the water. I punch, claw, and kick at the rocks near the top trying to open up a hole. The rocks bend inward, then stop, then there is a shifting sound and suddenly a hole opens up. I quickly dive through without looking. I slam into the ground, a rock hits my chest and for a few moments, I lay rolling on the ground of the cave gasping for air. The feeling subsides and I look for Petro. It is pitch black in the cave except for a little light that pours in through the small hole that I know wonder how I got through. I feel around, finding the tent which feels like half of it is bent inward. I find my way inside and my hands grasp at the lantern. It takes me a few moments but I manage to turn the lantern on and suddenly the cave is flooded with light.

The tent has a large rock on half of it, causing it to bend. There are many other fallen rocks but luckily there are no new ones that collapse. Petro lays a few inches from the tent in a scary pool of blood. Her head seems to have been hit by a rock, causing her to be knocked out. She is still breathing, though, I can see her chest rising and lowering.

I grab the first aid kit and get the suture kit I made out. I waste no time. I begin to sew the cut shut with haste, I know I am not doing it properly and it is messy but it is shutting the wound and stopping the bleeding so I keep my method even though it is wrong. Once the wound is sealed I splash anti-bacterial wash on it and wrap it with bandages. I have a feeling Petro would be very disappointed if not insulted, at the bad job I did on her wound but it will keep her alive.

"Petro, hey can you hear me? Petro?" I say as I lightly shake her but she shows no sign of waking up.

There is a sudden thud as one of the sharks hits the rock pile and sends rocks tumbling down and sealing the small hole I had formed. I let out a scream as I rush towards the wall but can't even reach the area where I crawled through. Y fingers only brush up against some of the rocks. Even if the hole was still there I don't know how I would have crawled out. I begin slamming into the rocks, pulling at some but my hands begin to slip. Water begins to seep in through the cracks and crevasses of the boulders and starts to flood the cave. I move frantically but nothing budges. I have this sinking feeling that maybe I should have left Petro and saved myself cause now I am trapped with her in a cave that is filling with water. If we get out we will be met with sharks, if we stay in we will drown.

I stumble back, slumping down beside Petro. Least she will sleep through this, won't know, won't feel anything. Least she will go peacefully.

"You know I really thought I was going to win," I mumble as I hold Petro on m lap, brushing my fingers through her hair, "I thought I made it so far so I must have a real chance."

I look at the pile of rocks that seals me in my tomb. Water pours in through whatever holes are present, filling the cave. Already it is so high I had to hold Petro on my lap because the water started to get too close to her face when she was laying down. It's cold as well, freezing. The water chills me to the bone and I am left sitting, soaking wet, shivering like a leaf. I wonder what will get me first the cold or the water. Will I freeze and have my body shut down or will I survive long enough to have my lungs fill with water? It scares me. So much so that I feel the tears slowly dribbling down my cheeks. I don't want to die, no one does really. But here I sit staring death in the face.

"Maybe you were right, maybe the cliff would have been a better option," I jokingly say but wipe away the tears.

I can hear them, the sharks. They are outside occasionally smashing against the pile of rocks to get inside. But, like when I was trying to get in, nothing gives. No hole opens up, no big collapse that opens up the cave. If a pack of genetically altered animals can't break down that wall of stone then I know my efforts are useless. Suddenly I feel the hope vanishing. Was this how Herminia felt when I found her? She didn't want to die but she knew she wouldn't live.

"I want you guys to look away, okay?" I say, knowing there are cameras within this cave broadcasting Petro and I right now. "I don't want you all to see this. Don't worry," I bring Petro closer, "I'm not alone." I try to force a smile but can barely form it. "I don't want your last memories of me to be of me freezing and drowning. I want them to be of me happy when I was smiling going through those stories of us...I love you guys so much." I look at Petro who lays unconscious. Her family will be watching too, teary eyed as they see their daughter trapped and soon to be dead. "I did everything I could to save her...I tried...I'm sorry."

I lean over and grab the sleeping bag that floats nearby. "Here we go," I say. I open it up, first working Petro into the bag and then I follow behind and zip it up so only our heads stick out. "There, nice and warm," I lie. The bag does nothing to keep us warm but I don't want my last moments to be screaming and crying. I don't want people to watch me panic before my death. That isn't how I want to go. I want to go peacefully, laying down, thinking of all the things I have done and accomplished in my life. I think of my family. I wish I had gotten to see them one more time. But that is normal with death, to always want just one more. One more hug, kiss, laugh. It is always just one more because no one is ready to let go of their life.

I wonder if Markos will still think highly of the games. Or will my death deter him from ever wanting to watch them again? Will he help my family like he helped me? I'm sure Clauria would take care of them. She is resourceful and cunning that she could easily have food on the table every night for them. As long as she is there mom and Michelle will be alright. She doesn't need me to help her anymore. I bring Petro into a tight hug and close my eyes. They are getting heavy. My body is numb in the water and I feel so tired. I don't fight it. It's good to finally rest.


	28. Ice

NOTE

So for some reason this chapter kept glitching when I uploaded it (there was all this weird code and it messed around with the words a bit) So if you see any of that I apologize. I scanned through the story and think I got rid of all the code language stuff but there might be some that I missed. Just wanted to point that out encase I did miss some of it.

* * *

There is a splash as something hits the water. What is it? I don't want to open my eyes to look. I don't want to get up. I just want to lay here and sleep. _Wait why am I sleeping? Where am I again?_ I struggle to even remember what has happened in the last few hours. Maybe I should open my eyes and see what that noise was. I will for just a few seconds then I will go back to sleep.

It is difficult to open my eyes like they have been glued shut and I have to force them open. I eventually work them awake and then everything comes flooding back. The cave, the quake, the water, sharks, the goodbyes. I lay chin-deep in the water. The cave glows a radiant blue from the waters but the walls have begun to form ice and droplets. I can feel ice on my body. My hair is crunchy and hard along with my eyebrows and I can feel tiny shards of ice on my cheeks and chin. The sleeping bag has also suffered the same fate. It has ice forming around the material. _Petro_. turn my head but it requires tremendous effort to even do that. I manage to turn enough to see her, though. She lays in the sleeping bag, her head against one of the rocks. She looks like a ghost, something out of stories. Her skin is purple and there are ice crystals that have formed in various places.

"Petro?" I try to say but it is barely audible. I force myself to lean up and glance at the wall. There is no more banging sound of the sharks. I know they aren't gone, they are still out there but must have gotten tired trying to get in. I lean back. _It would take a bomb to break that wall...A bomb...The lantern._ Yes! The lantern could be a bomb! It is propane and all the fuel is in a tight canister attached at the base of the lantern. If I could light it on fire it should blow and at least shift some of the rocks a bit. But how will I even get a flame? It is freezing cold in here and wet. I know though I have to at least try.

"Moving my limbs is torture. It sends a new kind of pain through my body, one I haven't felt before. I can hear popping and cracking sounds as I move my arms and turn my waist, trying to wake my body up from its icy slumber. Once I have loosen my body enough I try to slip out of the sleeping bag but it has formed around Petro and I and begun to build up ice. I can't get more than two or three inches out before I have to stop. I glance around, seeing a rock below the water on the ground. I grab it and begin to work on getting myself out. Smashing the sleeping bag sends jolts of agony up my legs but I don't stop. I'm hurting, tired, and freezing but I know if I stop I will die. I manage to break off enough ice on the side to slip my first leg out, then it just because a matter of wiggling my other leg and within minutes I'm free.

Laying down the water was up to my chin but standing it is to my waist. Least my upper body gets a break from the icy cold. I reach the tent and grab my bag. Everything lays inside, wet, but at least it is inside and I don't have to waste time searching for items and chasing them down in the waters. The tent is not salvageable so I don't even bother with it but I make sure to locate my spear which was outside my bag at the time. Once I have it I am rushing to the wall.

I have to lean against the wall. It is too hard to breathe and my vision is blurry for a moment. I can feel my eyelids going heavy again and my body telling me to sleep but I know if I do I won't wake up again. How Petro and I managed to live this long has baffled me. Maybe Petro already has gone...I can't think of that now. I pull the lantern out and begin to scan for a place to put it. I try sliding it in a crack in the wall but it slides out. I end up placing it at the top right of the pile of rocks, keeping it in place with my button shirt. First part is done. Now how do I light it on fire and get it to explode?

I rip open the first aid kit and instantly know what to do. The plastic compartments have kept the bandages and alcohol wipes safe from the freezing ocean water. I know it can easily ignite, especially those alcohol wipes. My frozen fingers fumble for a few seconds, trying to open the compartments. I begin to worry that they are too cold to even accomplish this but after a few tries I manage to open it. I grab the two materials, wrapping them together and then wrap them around the lantern. Hopefully, it will get heated enough for the propane to explode before I run out of stuff to burn. Once the bandages are wrapped I strike a match and place it against the bandage. For a moment it doesn't catch but then suddenly one of the sides goes ablaze and within seconds the bandages are all burning around the lantern.

It won't be long now. If it works that will be exploding within the minute. I trudge through the water, just to travel a few feet makes me exhausted and I am gasping for breath. I grab Petro and hold her close. We sit there in silence, hearing the dancing of the flames as it burns the cloth. Then there is a loud bang and the rocks begin to tumble. A few fall from the roof of the cave and splash into the waters.

"It's okay," I hold Petro, "We are going to be okay!" I worry that one of the falling rocks will hit me in the head, knock me out like it did Petro but then something else hits me, the water. It gushes in through the hole the explosion made and sweeps my feet out from under me. I fall backward and submerge into the freezing depths. I panic. I kick and claw to get back at my feet but the new current continues to push my legs out from under me. I am spun around and pushed further into the cave where I manage to get some leverage. I grab onto the rocks and kick up, surfacing again. I take a deep breath and glance around. The water has already flooded the cave up to the roof and there is only about two or three inches from the water to the ceiling of the cave. I have to keep Petro and I's mouths pressed up against the rocky surface as I begin to make my way to the hole.

The lantern caused more destruction than I thought it would. The hole is large, half the pile of rocks has collapsed leaving a wide exit for us. But no protecting from the sharks. The explosion must have scared them away but how long will it be before they come rushing back to investigate? I need to move fast.

I slip through the hole and glance around. There is no close place to swim to. There are a few trees that are partially submerged in the water but if we went up that then we would be stuck. Then I turn and notice the top of the cave is still dry from the water. It is a flat rocky surface that stretches down for about 15 yards before it gradually rises up 10 or so feet. This is our best bet. I grab Petro and go to hoist her up but my muscles are too weak that even this is nearly impossible. I slump her down on the edge and then grab her thighs and push up. My head goes under the waves but I manage to get her torso onto the top of the cave. I just slide her legs up and then shove her back a few inches so that I have room to pull myself on. I slide the spear up and then the backpack, then it is my turn.

I grab the edges and yank but I can barely get my chest out of the water. I slide my elbows up and then begin to pull again. My best rises up but it hurts so bad. It feels as if I am lifting an entire hovercraft out of the water. I claw into the dirt and continue pulling up when suddenly I feel a sharp pain in my hips. I am jerked bag and the little progress I made is lost. I know exactly what has me, the sharks. It yanks at my body but I keep my grip on the edge of the cave. The pain is numbed from the cold but judging by the reddish tint in the water around me it has punctured skin.

I let out a cry as I pull myself towards the cave with everything I have. My arms threaten to give but I don't stop, I can't, if I let go I will be dragged into the water and then I have no chance at surviving. I get closer to the cave but then the shark yanks me again and I almost lose my grip. I want to punch at the creature but that would mean letting go with one of my hands and there is no way I can hold on to the cave with just one hand. No, if I am going to let go I need to make it count. _The spear._ I glance at the weapon which sits just at the edge. Yes, if I can get one clean shot at it then I will be free and get to pull myself back up.

I take a deep breath, get ready, and then quickly reach for the spear. The shark seems to sense this and pulls at me just as I grab the handle of the weapon. My other hand looses grip of the cave and I am pulled from the cave. I swing the spear behind me but miss. The shark wrenches me to the right and I am pulled under the water but surface quickly after. It shakes its head, trying to rip me open. I can feel its teeth digging deeper into my body. I swing again and this time I feel the spear break into the shark but it doesn't let go. I yank the spear out again and stab down at the fish, then again, and again. My blood mixes with it in the water. I stab down on it again and I feel its jaws stop. I let go of the spear and grab at its mouth, pulling it open and releasing me.

I can hear the other sharks moving towards me, the splashing of the water as their fins break the surface. All those years swimming at the lake back at 6 pays off and I manage to reach the cave in record time. I grab at the edges and go to yank myself up but again lose my grip and dip back down. No, I can't! I grab again, digging my fingers into whatever edges I can find and then pull again. My whole body is in agony and the simple action of pulling myself up is torturous but I fight through it all, letting out screams as I pull up. I slump my chest down then wiggle my waist up and then lift my legs out of the water.

I roll onto my back, taking deep breaths as I look up at the sky. The stars, the moon, the blacks, purples, and blues that make up the sky. I remember the teachers telling us how people in history used stars and the moon to navigate planes and ships. I'd like to learn that skill. But right now my eyelids are heavy, my breath is light, and I am tired again. I did enough work for now. I close my eyes. _5 minutes, you get 5 minutes and then you have to go.._


	29. Goodbye

When I finally awake it is late afternoon. I know Petro has woken before me because I lay in some kind of makeshift shelter. The tarp has been laid in a cone-like shape, held up with rope, and covered with branches and leaves. All the other items and backpack laid hooked on branches in order to dry but judging from what I see most of the item have already lost all the water they were holding onto. I scan for Petro but she is nowhere to be seen. I mumble her name a few times but she makes no appearance. Maybe she went out to go gather food or water.

It takes me awhile to work my way to my feet. I know I have frostbite because when I remove my socks I see the mixture of purples and blacks on my swollen toes. I saw this a lot back in District 6. The addicts who had nothing and were left out in the cold often had frostbite all over their bodies, a few eventually froze to death, the ones who weren't smart. Addicts usually hid in abandoned buildings, would make a shelter, or even just a fire in order to survive the winters. The ones who had their brains fried from taking so many drugs though couldn't begin to work out how to search for such shelter and just laid in the cold. The morphling blocking out the pain until they fell asleep and never woke up.

I have to stop. Not only are my toes frostbiting but the shark bite is still fresh. They have been bandaged up and dressed. Petro's work. She must have seen us on the cave and me passed out and dragged me here. Set up camp and took care of me. I don't know how she got me here with how weak she has gotten from being in the arena but I am thankful.

But the 16 days in the arena has taken its toll on me too. I have lost a lot of weight, paranoia has become a common trait, and the stress has gotten so bad that it is affecting my on a physical level. I have begun to have tremors, rashes, and some hair has begun to fall out. The longer I stay in these games the harder it gets to keep going, not because I have lost hope but because everyday I wake up with less energy. There is some games, the older ones, that went on for weeks. One girl won by out-starving her competitors, they literally starved to death. I haven't seen that game but I heard it lasted over two months but was so boring the gamemaker quit. Well he didn't quit he was probably forced to or else killed for not delivering a good show but that was the older games, much older games, they weren't as intense as they are now. Tributes usually had a few days to relax at points, now it is constant attack after another and the only way to avoid being the victim of such attacks is to put on a good show.

I decide to take a few sips of water and nibble on a pile of berries that were left in a small cloth by where I laid. Petro must've gathered them. I'm surprised she was on her feet so fast and got to drag me to somewhere in the jungle and make a camp. She likely has worse frostbite than I do, unless she got a sponsor gift for it. She probably would never share even with me having saved her life. As she said, only one of us can win.

The sun gets too hot and I begin to sweat which loosens the bandages around my waist so I crawl back under the tarp to wait for Petro. I make sure to gather whatever is dry before going under as a attempt to try and help with some of the work. It is minor but it is better than nothing. I lay down for a few minutes than I am sitting and organizing the bag again, then pulling it all out, then re-organizing it. I get bored of that and I look at the pictures which are barely useful now. The water has washed away the ink making them a mess of colours on crippled paper. Throwing them away would be too hard though, even though I can no longer make it out I know it is images of my family. After awhile the sun begins to make its slow descent. A process that takes at least two hours. The arena cools and I make my way back out from under the tarp. Flying bugs and grasshoppers greet me but still no Petro. Could she have just ditched me like I had thought of doing to her when I saved her? I wouldn't put it past her. If she was out gathering supplies she would be back by now, she is smart enough to know that being out there at night is trouble.

That's why I know she has left me. Made sure I was safe and set for the day and then vanished into the jungle. She didn't want to be in the alliance to start off with and she probably figures we are even now, no reason for her to stay. I taught her how to find food and she gave me medical attention. It is a fair trade.

I don't want to stay here, however. I feel too open and want to make some ground anyways. I gather the bag, placing everything inside, wrapping the tarp and then I am off. The air is nice. It is warm but has that slight chill to it well the sun sets casting large shadows throughout the arena. The sounds of birds chirping and the buzzing of insects echoes for miles. Soon there will be the sounds of night creatures emerging from their dens but by then I will hopefully have made some distance and set up camp.

I feel the hands grab me before I hear the noise. Wet, warm hands. They grasp at my arms and tug me down but not in an attacking manner. When I feel the tug I know it is because these hands sought help and stability from the threat of falling. I turn, hand on my knife, but my eyes lock with the large brown eyes of the girl whom I thought was so innocent, was so fragile, was so ill-equipped for the games. But they are no longer big, beautiful, innocent eyes. They're scared, they're in pain. The blood is the second thing I notice. Splattered on her pale face and wetting her clothes, so much blood, so much red.

I grasp my hands around her and lower her to the ground, pulling my first aid kit from the bag. I don't know what to do, I don't know where to start. She was the one with the knowledge of medicine, not me. She had the delicate hand to so carefully fix my nose that she herself broke, the delicate yet precise hand to wrap the tooth marks on my waist so that they wouldn't be a problem. Now her hands grasp at my shirt, clenching the cloth in pain as she lets out whimpers and cries so quiet that it is as if a mouse is making the noise.

I lift her shirt, seeing the large gash in her stomach, the thick warm blood that pours from it and slides down her body, soaking into the soft earth she lays on. My hands fumble through the kit and I pull out the homemade suture. I'm shaking, I'm shaking so much that I can't do it properly, I can't do it with the delicacy and precision that she can do it. I poke the needle through her skin, tightening the rope but it is messy and still, bleeds, it is the best I can do. Again! I order myself and slide the needle across her wound again and again but the blood still pours and I am not even half way through but it is too much blood. I can feel my knees soaking in it, feel the life draining from her. She can't die, though, not now! She is the only link I have to home, if I don't win then she needs to win! She is not dying!

I'm working faster but her hand loosens its grip on my shirt and falls on top of my hands. Her fingers intertwining around mine and with what little energy she has left she pulls them away. I look at her. She knows I can't save her, that she is too far gone. I can see that, like when I was in the cave, she doesn't want to go screaming and panicking. She wants to go peacefully. She doesn't want to go fighting for something that can not happen but rather preparing herself for what comes next.

That's what we do. I brush the hair from her face. Her hand finds mine again and we sit there together, not talking but instead holding hands, staring at each other, waiting. Her eyes flutter around, seeing the leaves that rustle in the wind, the sun that sets, the birds that fly overhead. Then they focus on the sky, making out every little colour and cloud. I feel her grip on my hand loosen before the cannon fires.

The girl who I thought would never win, the girl who beat me at just about everything, who was so smart, the girl who had such a bright future, now gone. Dead. Her body laying in front of me covered in blood. I lower my head, feeling the tears drip from my cheeks. I lower her shirt back down, covering the gory wound that ended her life, slide her eyes shut, and give her a kiss on the forehead.

It's hard for me to even get to my feet I am so shaky but I manage. I glance down at her one last time. Remembering what she said at the beach when I begged for an alliance. 'One more death, we will stick together until one more person dies, then we part ways.'

"Goodbye Petro," I whisper before leaving.


	30. Help me win

I stumble through the jungle, hearing the sound of the hovercraft as it lowers, the sudden gust of wind, the sound of dirt moving as the claw so carefully picks up Petro and brings her into the hovercraft that District 6 made. Then as quickly as the wind and low hum appeared it is gone along with her. Now there is only four of us left, four people out of twenty.

I keep seeing images of what just happened. Her eyes, the blood, the gash in her stomach...The gash in her stomach. Someone inflicted that, that wound was made by a blade. And if she found me well suffering from an injury it means whoever did it is nearby. I'm suddenly running, crashing through the jungle where Petro came from. The branches and leaves snap and shake as my body plows through, not caring about being quiet. For the first time in this game, I am the one who is hunting. All I can think of now is how the person who killed Petro is out there, alive. They won't be, though, not for long. I will be sure I take them down, that they do not win this game. Even if it is the last thing I do.

Blood lays splattered on some of the leaves then a small puddle of it, then I am in an area full of ferns and low plants that are covered in red. This is where it happened. Broken branches, blood splatters, even a chunk out of the base of a tree that looks as if a sword dug into it. There is no mistaking this is where the fight broke out and Petro was cut open. With my axe ready I am glancing around, trying to see where the attacker went. There! Some of the ferns have been stepped on and lay flat against the ground, that is where the person went.

I am back to running, barrelling through the thick jungle as I follow the unsteady path that the attacked fled down. It doesn't take me long to spot him. The male from 2, Marius, lays on the ground covered in her blood as if basking in the kill her just made. I rush up, raise my axe but he does not move. He has spotted me but just stares at me. I'm sending the axe down towards his head when it hits me, this is not Petro's blood. I curve the axe to the right and it digs into the dirt just inches from his head.

Marius lays, not basking in his victory, but in pain. He has wounds all over him, blood pouring out. He is bleeding to death, not as fast as Petro was, this is something that could be healed. I want to sit here, to watch him slowly bleed to death like I was forced to watch Petro. To see the life slip from his eyes. But I can't. I need him to live because he will help me win. If he dies then I will be next. My life depends on him living.

I pull out the last of the medical gel I have and as quick as I can apply it to the cuts he has throughout his body, not because I am worried he will die soon but because the thought of saving him alone makes me filled with hatred. Once the last of the gel is applied I slam my fist into his face.

I don't bother carrying him or making some contraption to help me pull him. Instead, I tie his arms together and drag him behind me. Numerous times I think of how I would kill him, finding myself almost pleased with the idea. But I restrain from the actual action of it. Instead, I drag him till I find a nice area by two large trees and set up camp. I tie him to the tree. I over tie him really because his ankles, waist, chest, arms, even his neck lay wrapped in rope. When he wakes up he tries to talk but I gagged him with his shirt. His attempts at saying words ends up making me even madder so I slam my fist into his face again, knocking him out a second time.

The anthem plays. I only glance up for a second to see Petro's face in the sky before I curl up in my sleeping bag under the tarp to sleep. I guess I didn't tie him down good enough because I wake up to Marius standing over me, a knife in his hand as he stares at me with such detestation.

It startles me to see him free but I manage to act calm. I rise up from my sleeping bag and stare at him. Why hasn't he just done it already? He has the knife and has the advantage but he just stands there looking at me.

"Why?" Marius manages to say.

I know what he is asking. Why didn't I kill him? I had hours to do it but instead, I saved his life. "Because I need you...And you need me."

This just makes him angrier. "I don't need-"

I cut him off mid-sentence. "Yes, you do! There is four of us left. You and I along with Blaire and Amethyst. Now I figure you weren't hunting me and my district partner alone and I also doubt that Petro managed to almost kill you."

He stares at me with surprise. I know that Petro didn't inflict those wounds I found him with. Maybe one or two if she was lucky but to take down a career by herself? No. Marius was betrayed by Blaire and Amethyst, once he took care of Petro they attacked him and left him to bleed to death. "So yes you can plunge that knife into me and kill me right now and then you are left to face those two by yourself! Or, you can put down that knife and we can team up to take them down."

Silence fills the air for a few moments as Marius debates his options. My only way to win this game is for him to agree to team up because there is no way I can take on Blaire and Amethyst by myself. I silently pray for him to lower his knife and for a second it doesn't seem like he is going to but he gives it. Marius tucks the knife in his waistband and takes a few steps back.

"So let's go hunt them down," Marius orders.

"They have a full day lead. They are probably heading back to the cornucopia," I say.

"Then we should start moving," He says.

I don't argue cause I actually agree. It will take roughly a day and a half to get to the cornucopia and the faster we end this game the better. I pack up everything in the bag and then we are off. Marius says they been through this area before earlier in the games so he ends up leading the way. I know well walking I should keep my eyes out for the other two but I can't help but think that in 2 days I will either be dead or a victor. On way or another, I will be out of this arena.

Marius is surprisingly accommodating of me. I take more breaks than usual due to the holes in my waist from when the shark bit into me. He was mad at first but when he saw the bloody bandages he quieted down. I can tell though he wants to keep moving. Whether this is just the bloodthirsty nature of him wanting to hunt or if he just wants these games over, it is a mystery to me.

As I suspected with most careers, Marius has no idea how to obtain food from the jungle. When we stop to collect water from streams or ponds I have to venture out and gather food for us. He stays by the water and waits which doesn't bother me, I like being far from him and there is no point in him coming along since the games will be over shortly anyways. It is a pain how much he actually goes through, though. A canteen of water and handful of berries could keep me going for the day. Marius on the other hand thinks it is a light snack. In Districts 1, 2, and 4 the kids are given strict diets to follow and are very well fed. That diet has not changed since entering the arena, he has had the bounty left at the cornucopia to survive on. Now, without it, he is struggling and I am the one being forced to keep him alive. I have to keep reminding myself that I need him if I want to win as I collect more fruit, more roots.

We stop again and I gather some insects since I know they will give us a kick of energy and meet back with Marius by the stream he waits at. I sit down across from him and pass him his share of the small creatures.

"What is this?" Marius says in disgust.

"Food," I mumble as I pop the dead crickets and worms into my mouth.

"Do you expect me to eat this?" Marius asks.

"You're hungry aren't you?"

He suddenly tosses the insects into the river as he gets to his feet. "How do you expect me to eat that shit?"

I feel my body shake with anger. Not only did I just spend thirty minutes collecting that but he was the one who said we should stop for food because of his opulent lifestyle. "You're in the Hunger Games! You eat whatever you can get."

"A rabbit but not insects!" Marius spits.

"You might have had the luxury of choosing what you wanted to eat back in 2 but in the other districts, we starve! And we eat whatever we can get. You rich snob."

I can see Marius holding his hand just above his knife. His hazel eyes filled with rage. I can bet that no one has ever stood up to him before and if they did they probably regretted it. "I should kill you right now."

"Do it then you can face Amethyst and Blaire alone."

"I can take them!" He hollers.

"They left you to die like they left your district partner."

"You know nothing about Herminia."

"I killed her!" I yell in his face. I wait for him to yell back, to pull out his knife, to do something out of anger but he doesn't. His tensed face releases and he takes a step back.

"You...You what?" His voice is brittle.

From the sudden change in his tone and despair on his face I know he was close with her. Even though I hate the man who stands in front of me I know the feeling. How it feels to loose your district partner because they were your last link to home. But in Marius's eyes, I can tell that this was more, that they knew each other. Suddenly I find myself hating Marius just a bit less because I realize now that I killed his district partner like he did mine. "I found her by the river," I say, "She was injured and dying. She asked me to so I made it quick."

"No, no...She was with Amethyst. Amethyst said that Herminia got killed by a mutt." Marius's eyes begin to fill with tears, "You're lying, why are you lying!"

"She has two brothers. Cato and Venice," I tell him.

"How did you know that?"

"She told me when I found her. She said goodbye to them...Herminia wasn't killed by a mutt. She was injured in a fight and Amethyst left her to die." I say.

Marius goes to take a step back but it is like his knees give out and he falls to the ground. He holds his hands up, blocking his face as he cries. I don't go to comfort him. He was the person who killed Petro and I will make sure he doesn't win, I will kill Marius. So I stand there watching as he cries over the loss of his friend knowing he will join her soon enough.


	31. The last morning

We set up close to where I spent the night of my birthday. Just a few meters away from the wide open plain full of tall grass and cattails at one end. Marius says if any tributes are stupid enough to walk through the opening we can easily spot them and hunt them down. I can't help but think of how I was that stupid that I not only walked in the middle of the plain but set up a tent and went to sleep in it. I don't tell him that though, careers hate weakness or poor choices. Heck, the only reason he is probably fine with the injuries on my waist is because he himself got beaten by his fellow career pack.

I tie the tarp against a tree and unzip the sleeping bag so that it is open and lay it down on the ground like a large sheet to separate us from the soil. I want to just claim the sleeping bag for myself but Marius would likely start a fight over it and I need him to be on my side for the finale rather than fighting so much we end up turning our weapons on each other. We finish off the water, there is the river nearby so I don't panic too much about this. But we are all out of food and there is no berry bushes or fruit trees around. I am fine though, this day has been full of plenty of stops full of snacking, probably one of the more bountiful days I have had in the arena. But by the sound of Marius's stomach growling I can tell this was one of his worst and I have to occasionally hide my grin because I find his suffering and discomfort a bit amusing.

"It's been a good day," I say, knowing this will annoy Marius. I stretch out on the sleeping bag but then start to unwrap my bandages and clean the wounds.

"What happened?" Marius is unamused.

"A shark," I say.

"The oceans full of 'em. We lost a man to them early on," Marius keeps his eyes on the plains.

"The male from 1?" I ask but then grin, "Nah, I killed him too." If I can not kill Marius yet or fight with him then I will at least be the worst ally in the games.

"Who else did you kill?" He asks.

"The female from 4," I don't bother telling him that I also took out both tributes from District 5 because he doesn't need to know and it won't bother him any. But knowing I took out three of his allies, that will tug at some nerves, his stone cold emotionless nerves.

"The only other one I got was one from 12," Marius says.

That's right. Back in the bloodbath I was on the ground and the girl from 12 was about to stab me with that spear but then Marius tackled her. His intentions were not to save me, he just saw a tribute and his training kicked in, but still, I would have been dead if he didn't do that. "I remember," I say, "She was about to stab me."

"You were the one on the ground? Huh...Here I thought I owed you for saving my life but really you owed me." Marius plays with the knife.

"I didn't save you to get even, I saved you cause you're good at killing, that's it." I finish wrapped my wounds and pull the tanktop down. If there is one last thing the sponsors could send it would be a new shirt. My button shirt was lost in the caves and now I only have the white tanktop left, except it isn't white no more. It is dirty and full of dark browny colour of all the dried blood. The holes and rips from all the attacks from blades, mutts, and branches leave it tattered and barely able to cover my body. Before I did not care but now so much of my torso lays exposed and with the dropping temperature it really begins to affect me.

"You think I am just a killing machine?" Marius asks.

"Weren't you trained for it?" I say, already knowing the answer.

"Yea. I thought it would be different."

"Well, sorry the games disappointed you." I roll onto my side.

It falls silent again except for the sounds of birds and insects roaming the jungle. Even though Marius is my enemy I feel safer because if he wanted to kill me he would have taken the chance to already. Careers aren't the type to wait if they have a chance to attack they go for it. Having him on watch and wanting to hunt down someone who isn't me, makes it easier to sleep.

But it is hard to sleep. My dreams are filled with Petro. I am trying to help her and stop the bleeding but it keeps pouring out and then suddenly my feet are sinking into the blood and I am struggling to get free but I keep sinking deeper and deeper until my head vanishes below the thick red substance. I am choking on her blood. The liquid is filling my lungs and I am thrashing about trying to find air but then the mechanical claw of the hovercraft is wrapping around me. I try to fight it but it is squeezing me so hard that I can feel my bones bending. I am in the hovercraft now and there are weird people in weird outfits cleaning my naked body. They wash out all the filth and grime. I try to move, try to speak but I can't do anything but lay there quietly as they clean me and slide me into a simple wooden box. A coffin.

I lean up panting and sweating, my eyes darting from side to side to see I am no longer in the coffin but under the tarp in the arena. I glance at Marius who still leans against a tree, knife in hand. He is a shorter tribute, maybe 5'10 or 5'9. But he is as muscular as I am. His brown hair has been pushed back out of his face revealing his hazel eyes. The eyes that are watching me now.

"How long have I been out?" I ask.

"A few hours," Marius says.

"Your turn," I say as I crawl over to him," I'll take watch, you get some sleep."

"I'm fine," He mumbles.

"Tomorrow is the finale, you need some rest so you aren't slow," I slump against a tree across from him.

"I said I am fine!" He raises his voice.

"Then we are both staying up I guess." I slip on my night vision goggles I got from the feast and watch the jungle and plains. It doesn't take long before Marius crawls under the tarp murmuring words under his breath as he lays down on the sleeping bag. Within minutes I am regretting my decision not to leave him on watch because he is snoring so loud that even the birds have stopped their chirping. I kick him awake twice throughout the night telling him to shut up but I know he can't help it. He mumbles words back at me but I don't both listening and soon he is back to snoring. How lucky he is to have the luxury of snoring. If any other tribute were to do so in the arena they would be dead before they woke up, some other tribute discovering them and slitting their throat. But the careers are able to snore if they want to, to scream, shout, not watch their footing, break branches and snap twigs. How lucky they are to not have to be careful.

I see the sun start to rise on the horizon. This will be the last time I see the sun rise in the arena. We will reach the cornucopia today. Even if Amethyst and Blaire aren't there the gamemakers will push them to the area for the final fight. I do feel a small knot in my gut but I am more excited to get this game over with. I am exhausted. It has been nearly 20 days in this arena and the thought of it all coming to an end is a relief.

I shake Marius awake and disassemble our camp. Marius voices his dislike for the lack of food and water but I tune him out. We walk through the jungle and I decide to take him to where Herminia died. Even though I hate him, he is still a person who is just doing what he needed to win this game. Marius drops to his knees at the spot of Herminia's death. He doesn't say anything, doesn't even cry. He stares at the spot so silently that you could hear a pin drop.

He gets to his feet and we walk the short path to the river where we fill up our canteen with water. Marius makes a weird tool from a branch. He says the male from 4 taught them this. He carves three sharp edges on the end of the branch and then goes into the river to capture fish. Within a few minutes, he has two. I start digging into my fish raw since I know it is ok to eat well it is fresh.

"We need to cook it first," Marius looks worried.

"No, it's fine," aI say.

But this is not good enough so he ends up gatheringanarm full of wood. I have to actually make the fire for him since he doesn't know how and then he begins to roast his fish over the flames.

"Are you really so poor back at 6 that you eat raw fish?" He asks.

"No point in wasting the wood n energy for a fire when it is perfectly edible," I say.

"Back in 2 we have people who cook for us. It is bland but we don't go hungry," Marius says, "Do people go hungry in 6?"

"People starve in 6," I mumble. "It is a big district, there are some who can afford to eat, lots actually. But there is a lot of us who can't."

"Are you one who can't?" Marius asks.

"Yea. I live in the poor end of District 6. The train that goes through the district-" Marius suddenly cuts me off.

"Your train goes through the city?" He asks. "Our train goes from the town square up to the nut. If we want to go anywhere else we have to walk."

I am a bit confused when he says nut but I figure it's the workplace. In 6 we call them hubs, 3 and 8 call their work buildings factories, and 7 calls them mills. So I figure nut is what the building where everyone goes to work at is called back in District 2.

"We better get going," I say and grab my things.

Marius follows behind me as we walk down the river. We pass the place where I had ran into the snake mutt and enter into the jungle. From there it only takes us a few hours to get to the sandy opening of the cornucopia. We walk out into the open. No sign of the other two tributes. Marius does a walk around the cornucopia and I check inside it but there is no sign of anyone. We wait at the mouth of the horn but after about thirty minutes I start to get bored.

I wonder to the vast ocean that lays beside the cornucopia. But finally I notice it is not a ocean here but a large lake. I can see far off in the distance the land wrap around it. So no sharks. I walk into the water, up to my knees, and feel the cool waves wash past me, soaking into my pants and chilling my feet and legs. That's when I feel the arm wrap around me but this is not the arm of Amethyst of Blaire. This arm is muscular and thick, it is the arm of Marius that pulls me down and throws me under the water, pressing his weight onto me. He is trying to drown me.


	32. I win

I feel his weight pushed down on my chest. It is a struggle to even hold my breath because of it. My left-hand lays pinned between his bicep and chest but my right arm is free and I spring into action. I reach out of the water and grab at his face, digging my nails into his cheek. I hear a scream and suddenly the weight is lifted from me and I break the surface of the water, gasping for air.

I glance down to see Marius lays on his back in the water. I don't bother to question his motives, why he suddenly wants to kill me, I just know I have to be the one to walk out of this fight alive. I grab the handle of the axe which lays in my belt and I rip it free. Before I can do anything else Marius's hands wrap around me and pull me against him, into a big hug. Why is he hugging me? Is this some fighting method? I am trying to break free when I hear the whizzing through the air behind me. Something just missed me...An arrow. I stop fighting and glance to my side to see Amethyst stands just outside the jungle line with a bow in hand. Marius wasn't trying to kill me, he was trying to save me...He did save me.

"I got her," I can hear the hatred in Marius's voice, "You take out the other one."

Marius tosses me to the side and he jumps to his feet, running towards Amethyst. She fires another arrow at him but he side steps and manages to dodge it. The last thing I see is Marius tackling her to the ground before I focus on the other tribute, Blaire. I get to my feet and splash through the lake, my clothes weighing me down and the lack of food taking its toll on my energy supply. I manage to get out of the lake and look for Blaire but there is no sign of her. I turn my sight to Marius and Amethyst, expecting her to come rushing out to finish Marius, but there is no sign of her. If she isn't out yet then I can help Marius defeat Amethyst and then the two of us can turn our sights to Blaire.

I start rushing towards the two fighting tributes when the glint of sunlight bouncing off metal catches my eye. I manage to lean back just as the small axe cuts through the air past me. Blaire stands maybe twenty or so meters to my left, just beside the tail of the cornucopia. She must've been waiting there for me to go help Marius and catch me off guard. But me spotting her doesn't slow down her attack. She charges towards me with another axe in hand and I brace myself for the attack.

When she gets into arms reach I swing the axe towards her chest but she drops down to her knees, the axe just missing her by a few inches. She slides along the sand, sending her weapon digging into my upper calf and I feel the pain shoot through my leg. It goes to give out but I manage to stay balanced. I whip around to see she is getting to her feet but I clench my left hand into a fist and slam it into the side of her head, sending her back down to the ground.

She is on her side and looking for her weapon, now is the time for me to get her. I raise my axe and plunge it down towards her but she spots it just in time and rolls out of the way. She kicks her foot into my stomach and I suddenly feel as if I am going to throw up the fish I had earlier. She is getting to her feet now, axe in hand but I don't let up. I swing at her but she backs up and the axe misses, swing again but she dodges the attack.

The Capitol must be loving this. Two fights going on at the same time and not the short quick fights that are over within just a few seconds. No, these two fights are long, enduring, bloody. I know everyone will be at the edge of their seats watching this finale with the inability to break their attention from the screens.

I stumble back, breathing heavily as I hold my shoulder. The gash that Blaire inflicted bleeds but not as heavy as some of my previous injuries have. She looks at me, her dark skinned face smeared with blood from when I broke her nose and sliced her cheek open. Amethyst and Marius are out of sight, having vanished into the jungle sometime earlier but there has been no cannon yet so they are both alive. For a few seconds, Blaire and I stand just a few feet apart, taking heavy breaths, a short break before we begin the next round of fighting.

She swings first, her axe high above me. I raise mine and using the handle of my own I slide it just under the head of her axe, stopping it in its tracks. I yank away and try to go in for a swing but she jumps out of the way. I am so tired but I know I have to end this now. If Marius and Amethyst are somewhere else fighting it will give me a few seconds or even minutes to take a rest before I have to face off against the winner of that fight.

I take a deep breath and then suddenly lunge at her. She goes to hit me with the axe but I duck down and it misses me. I slam into her midsection and wrap my arm around her, lifting her into the air as I rush towards the cornucopia. I can feel my legs starting to falter but I keep going as fast as I can. I push all my body weight forward and slam Blaire against the side of the cornucopia. There is a loud Thud! Which is followed by a loud shriek from Blaire.

I go to pull my hand away, to swing down at her and finish this, but she wraps her hand under my armpit and yanks up. There is a cracking sound as I feel something shift in my shoulder a sharp ache rips through my arm and I can barely even move it. She either popped it out or broke it but either way the movement in my right arm is lost. I let out a harsh yell as I feel her pulling the arm upwards. I can't get to her with my other arm, I can feel she is preparing to do the same to it. But I know the only way I can get to her.

I open my mouth and dig my teeth into her upper chest. I can feel her skin break and flesh rip as I bite down. The metallic taste of her blood begins to flood into my mouth as I jerk my head back and rip out a mouthful of her flesh. She lets go as she hollers in pain. I quickly step back and she drops to the ground.

She is already starting to get back up though and a knife lays in her grasp. Ready to be used against me. I push off the ground and hurdle myself towards her again, slamming my body into her. She hits the cornucopia a second time and drops back down. I glance at my feet to see my axe and, with my good hand, grab it. I swing low but up and feel it suddenly stop as it finds its mark.

The axe has dug through Blaire's chin and into her face. It isn't enough for an immediate death though because she is grasping at the axe, her eyes bulging out of her head as she stumbles backward and then leans against the cornucopia. She is gasping for air but this blood-chilling gurgling sound is the only thing that escapes her lips. She coughs up globs of blood before falling onto her back, seeming to spasm for a moment as she tries to rip the axe out. Then suddenly she stops and there is a cannon.

I take a deep breath and scan the area to make sure Amethyst or Marius haven't come into view, but neither is visible. I manage to wobble to the lake and collapse beside the water. I cup my hands and begin to down as much as I can when I feel the sting in my side. I glance down to see the knife, the knife that Blaire was holding. It lays on the side of my body. It must have pierced me when I slammed into her. I turn back to her body and see the hovercraft has already begun to collect it. I can see my axe still embedded in her face and know I should have grabbed it before I left her body, but there is no way I can get it now. Within a few seconds, she is pulled up into the vehicle and it vanishes. Only three of us left, two more and then I get to go home.

I look back at the knife, knowing I need to pull it out but I don't want to right now. I am exhausted from that fight, tired from such sleepless nights, hungry, thirsty, stressed. I take more sips from the water before I lumber up to my feet. I have to at least get to the cornucopia, that way I won't be out in the open when Amethyst or Marius come back. But it is too late. The second I get to my feet I see Amethyst emerge from the jungle. From the look on her face, I can tell she is shocked to see me standing here, likely having expected Blaire to be the one who would be waiting.

Amethyst pulls out her bow and I feel my heart sink. I could have made a run for the cornucopia when I first saw her but now I am out in the open and she is loading her arrow. I bolt towards the cornucopia but when I hear the arrow fly I know I will not make it. I feel my whole body tense waiting to see where the arrow will hit me and then I feel it. It punctures into my thigh on the leg Blaire had already injured. I feel it go to give again but this time I can't stay balanced and I fall down. I roll for a moment but then come to a stop.

I see the shadow looming over me and know Amethyst is already at me, her weapon ready. I glance up at her, seeing she has another arrow loaded into her bow and stands just a meager 2 or 3 feet from me but that is enough. I could get her now. I grasp the knife in my side. It is now or never. I lean forward as fast as I can as I rip out the knife from my side, letting out a scream in pain as I do. But before I can even take a jab at her I feel the blood splatter across my face. For a second I think it is my blood. That she let her arrow go and it has hit me in the chest or neck, that I will be dead soon. But I feel no pain and glance down to see the arrow did get fired but is in the ground only inches away from me.

The spear has been pushed through Amethyst from behind. The end of it lays just at my face and drips of blood, having gone through her lower chest. Amethyst drops to her knees as she lets out deep breaths of air. The spear suddenly is pulled through her again and she drops to the ground beside me. Marius stands tall. Like myself, he is covered in blood and wounds from the fight he just survived. His bruised hands grasp at the spear and he watches me as if to see if I will attack him but I only lower my knife. If I did try to now he would just send the spear through my body and that would be it.

The cannon suddenly fires and I glance at Amethyst who no longer moves. I turn back to Marius, expecting him just to end this all now. I can feel myself filled with anger again because I wanted to make sure he would not win, to make sure he died, even if it took me down, for what he did. But now he stands over me, spear ready to deliver a fatal blow. He won. Then, without reason, he lowers the spear and gives me an expression as if to ask if I am going to attack him. I raise my hand for help in response.

He grabs my hand and yanks me up to my feet. He wraps my bad arm around him and supports me as we move towards the cornucopia.

"Why?" I choke out as I walk beside him.

"I owe you a more honorable death...For saving me," He says.

An honorable death? There are no honorable deaths in The Hunger Games. There are just people who fought and got killed, no honor or pride. But there is...It hits me that in District 2 there is such thing as honorable deaths. People who went down in a noble way or weren't just skewered with a sword and left to bleed out. People who died with pride or went down fighting, people who the career districts would still be proud of even though the tribute didn't survive.

Marius lowers me down beside the cornucopia. I grab the backpack and bring it closer well Marius sits down a few feet beside me. I was kind of hoping he would sit closer, that way I could have just jabbed him with the knife well he wasn't expecting it, but now he is out of my reach. I wrack my brain for a way out of this, for a way to kill my final opponent so that I can go home. But there is no way. Marius is too far for me to reach plus he only has gashes and bruises. I have a broken shoulder, injured leg, and losing too much blood once again from my shoulder. I wouldn't be able to stand let alone put up a fight if I were to attack him.

But what if I didn't have too...I look into my bag, my hands grasped around the canteen of water but I see the small silver canister near the bottom. The one that had the pain medicine but I filled with the venom from the spider mutts. It is a stretch of a plan but anything is worth a try. I quickly screw open the venom and pour the entire thing into the canteen of water. I pull it out and pretend to take a drink from it, sealing my lips against the rim of the bottle to ensure that not even a drop of water makes it into my mouth. I lower the canteen from my lips and wipe my mouth.

"You will make it quick?" I ask him.

"Yea," Marius says, "You did it for Herminia...I will do it for you."

I give my head a nod and I pass him the canteen of water. I am shaking, hoping he will take it. For a moment it seems like he doesn't want to but then he grabs it and takes four big gulps from it before he seals the bottle and passes it back to me. I feel my entire body quivering, not out of fear but out of hope. It is hard to hide the smile but I do my best as I place the bottle back into my bag.

Marius gets to his feet, walking over to me and carefully picks up the knife from my hand. He lowers himself beside me.

"Do you want to say goodbye?" He asks.

I shake my head, "No."

He nods his head and I feel him place the knife by my ear. He tells me to take a deep breath and suddenly I am panicking because what if the venom doesn't work? What if he is actually going to kill me now. I am thinking of a way out again, my eyes looking at everything in hopes there is some sign of hope in anyone of the items near me. Nothing. Could I shove him down and try to stab him? No, the minute he sees me move he will likely send the knife through my head. Why hasn't he yet? What is he waiting for?

I look up at Marius and see drool spewing from his lips. His eyes are wide and look straight. Just by seeing his eyes I know the venom has taken effect. I can see the panic, the gears in his head turning trying to figure out what is going on. Then suddenly his hand slumps onto my lap, still clenching the knife. He is struggling to stay on his feet. He slowly lowers until he is laying down beside me. He still has movement in one of his arms and he is grasping at me with it.

"W-What...What did y—yo-y," He struggles to even talk.

"Spider venom," I say as I pull out the container from my bag. I grab the knife from his hand and chuck it away. I feel the new spring of life in me. My final opponent lays, unable to move, right beside me. There is no way for him to inflict any kind of damage to me, let alone kill me. "I win," I say with revenge.

Using my good arm I pull him onto my lap and then wrap my arm around his neck and begin to squeeze as hard as I can. I can feel his body jerking and twitching, still having some movement in it. His one hand grabs at my face and rips at my shirt but I just tighten my grip around him. Every flex of his throat muscles, every movement I can feel. He is trying to breathe but I refuse to let him even have one small breath of air. He killed Petro, he hunted me down like a dog, he will not win. I pour all my hate into this one tribute which only makes me want him dead faster. His body is jerking more now, a low gasping sound coming from his throat, his hand clenching onto my shirt. He tries to break free but I don't let him. Then slowly the fighting begins to die down. His grip loosens, the sound stops, and his body slowly stops shaking. For a moment it is silent then there is the sudden boom of a cannon and I know Marius has died.

I slowly let go of the career and push his body off me. The entire arena is silent, no trumpets, no announcement. Why aren't they doing anything? I won. I manage to work my way to my feet and look up at the sky, waiting for something to happen.

"Hello!?" I yell, "I won! What's going on?"

Then it hits me. I won. I just won the Hunger Games. I am going to go back home, to see my family, to see Markos. I feel the smile open up on my face and I even let out a laugh.

"I won," I smile. But then it hits me, I didn't. I feel the cold, hard steel rip through my shoulder all the way down until it has broken my collar bone. The blood that splatters across my face. Then I realize I did not win. That this finale was not the final four, it was the final five. That all those days of me not being able to remember that one tribute, trying to figure out who I was forgetting and ended up losing track of that tribute to the extent that I just thought them to be dead. But she wasn't dead, she was laying low this entire time, so low that everyone really did think she had died somehow. But now I know she isn't and remember who she was. The girl from District 10, Pell. And she just sent a machete through my chest.


	33. Monster

I'm standing in the small clearing of the patch of forest that lays behind our hours. The leaves rattle together causing an uneven melody to echo through the air as the soft wind blows through the branches. It's nice to feel the wind brush up against me. It is even better after a recent storm. I can still feel the rain splattering onto my skin and clothes but now the wind begins to dry my body. My damp hair, shirt, face all slowly returning to normal.

Markos stands just a few feet away. Clauria must have told him I was here. I smile at the sight of him and rush over because for so long I wanted to take him to this patch of forest, to my small oasis from District 6. I don't slow down but instead, wrap my arms around him. He almost falls back from my running into him but he holds his ground and laughs as he holds me. The feeling of him holding me again, it brings me back to the night he saved me life, the feeling of being safe with him. That as long as I am in his grasp I have nothing to worry about. For a few minutes, I hold the hug. Kissing his cheek, his hair smelling like the coconut aroma I had smelt back at the Capitol. I want this moment to last forever but I know it can't. I figure we can gather berries to eat and break from his embrace.

I look at him but he stares at me with horror. I see the blood on his shirt. Panic quickly sets in as I wonder what happened to him, why is he bleeding!? I rush over to go check where the blood is coming from but when I lift my arm pain shoots up through my body and I let out a yelp. I glance at my shoulder and see he is not the one bleeding, I am. The thick red liquid stains into my white shirt, growing in size. The warmth of it trickling down my body.

I open my eyes. No longer am I in District 6 with Markos by my side, no. I am back in the arena, on my knees, the machete deep in my torso. There is this awful ripping sound that fills my ears as I feel the machete yanked out. The last bit of support I had gives and I slam into the ground. I can't move. I try to move my arms but nothing shows any sign of life. It is a struggle to even breath and my head pounds. I drift in and out of consciousness twice before I manage to fight off the blackouts. I shift my body weight and manage to roll onto my back.

My attacker, the female from 10, hovers above me like the Grim Reaper waiting to deliver me to the afterlife. She raises the machete and all I can do is watch as she sends it down. I feel the blade tear into my skin, puncturing organs. The blade rips through my stomach but the pain is numb. Like my body has already begun to shut down and all the feelings in that area have already been turned off. Like the workers at the hub turning off the sets of lights at the end of a long day. She pulls it out and waits. Yeah..It won't be long now.

I feel empty, hollow. It is as if someone had just sucked out all the emotions, the pain, the memories, leaving only this empty shell. I try to draw on the faces of mom but my mind hurts and it struggles to even form her face. It hurts to even think. But the ground is so soft, so warm and soft. My body feels lighter but at the same time heavy and that I am sinking into the sand. The blue sky above me goes darker, suddenly it is black, then back to blue and I know I just lost consciousness for a moment.

The female from 10, Pell, looks at me with her dark eyes. I think they're dark. Her wavy brown hair is partially blocking them. She doesn't look like a killer. She looks as innocent as Petro, as young as Petro too. No not innocent. She survived the careers early in the games, people who are innocent don't survive the careers. I would know. Why hasn't she finished me off though? Why does she just stand there waiting?

It is almost like she heard my thoughts because she lowers down to her knees, placing the knife against my throat. I know she is seconds from slicing my neck open and claiming victory but like all those other times I faced death, I am searching for hope. I don't want to die. But if I am I don't want to die laying here. I want to go as Marius planned to have ended my life. An honorable death. Someone who died fighting, not bleeding to death. That's the least I can do cause I know my family is watching this right now. I can at least fight for them just for a few more seconds and then it will be over but at least I will have fought for my family.

I feel her press the knife downward but with my left hand I reach up. Everything stings but I ignore it. My hand grabs her face and I yank across my body. She isn't expecting this and has no way of stopping it in time. She goes to get to her feet but all it does it make her easier to knock down. I slam her head into the ground and her body bends in an awkward position before straightening out so that her back lays flat against the sand.

Suddenly she opens her mouth and half of my hand gets trapped inside as she chomps down on my knuckles. I let out another scream as her teeth bare into my flesh. I need to get my hand out. I want to move my right hand but it lays limp against my side, definitely being broken. Instead, I tug my body up and drop my upper back onto her head, holding it in place. I push my hand downwards, opening her mouth. For a moment it is a struggle but the numbing effect that has overtaken my stomach area now begins to flow through my arm and I barely feel her bottom row of teeth piercing my hand.

Her arms begin to thrash in the air before grabbing at my hand, trying to pull it away but even with her mouth open, I don't stop. I keep pushing down, more and more and more. There is a loud popping sound and she lets out a scream as her feet kick up in the air. Her body shakes violently, trying to escape but I lean forward and push down. CRK! The crunching sound fills my ears followed by the blood-curdling sound of Pell's screams.

Her lower jaw has been broken and now dangles loosely. I can see movements in her face as she tries to regain control but it doesn't even twitch. It shifts from side to side at the movement of her head but it is only held in place by skin now. The bone and muscles being ripped off the joint in her face. I slide off her and she rolls onto her side, her screaming only growing louder. Suddenly her body gets dark, the whole world gets dark and I feel myself get weightless again. No. I can't, not now. I shake my head and force my eyes open. I don't have much time, I need to end this now.

I dig my left hand into the ground and drag myself towards the girl who lays curled up in a ball. The girl who needs to die so that I can live. I dig my hand in the ground and drag myself along again, now I am right beside her. I push myself up and my torso lands on top of her. She is screaming something, I think she is screaming no but it is inaudible with her jaw being broken. Her hands are pushing at me but I am much larger and stronger, she only lifts my sides a few inches before her arms give. I pull myself up so that I sit on her chest and face down at her.

She is struggling to get free, her arms pinned under my legs. I look at her. This girl who can't be any more than 15. Her face already swollen, her eyes bloodshot. Tears streaming down her cheeks as she lets out cries and inaudible words. I have to look away from her, keep my sight planted at the sand beside her. I clench my left hand into a fist and smash it into her face. There is a loud thud and she lets out a scream but I hit her again. This time her scream is more like a whimper. I slam my fist into her again and suddenly feel tears streaming down my cheeks. I don't want to do this, I don't want to kill. But I want to live and see my family. I want to go home and be able to care for them, to see Markos again, to have a life, to marry, to grow old.

CRACK! I slam my fist into her again. She lets out another whimper. Crack! She is mumbling something, I can't make it out though. Crack! I can feel her arms have given up. Her hands grasp at my legs but no longer feel them yanking or pulling. Crack! Her breathing is becoming more shallow. I can hear her labored wheezing breaths. Crack! Blood is pouring out of her nose and mouth now, I can feel it on my hand. Crack! She lost consciousness. Crack! I'm so sorry. Crack! The sound of the cannon suddenly blasts through the arena.

The gamemakers waste no time. The trumpets are already blaring, almost deafening as I collapse onto my back, seeing the hovercraft that is already hanging above me.

I can hear Claudius Templesmith now. "I am pleased to present the victor of the seventy-second annual Hunger Games! Remus Kirkwood, the tribute from District 6!"

The claw has wrapped around me now, starting to bring me up into the hovercraft. I don't need to fight anymore. I'm a victor. They won't let me die. If I die now the Capitol would riot, there would be chaos, the gamemakers would be punished. No, I am not going to die now. So I lay back, watching the hovercraft get closer. The tears streaming down my face cause not only am I a victor, I am a monster.


	34. Choose Right

I drift in and out of consciousness as they hoist me up into the hovercraft. I'm being rolled into a room within the hovercraft and doctors with masks and gloves, dressed all in white, are surrounding me. A nurse has placed a mask connected to a long tube over my nose and mouth which is releasing some kind of gas into my lungs. I can smell it, it is slight but has the smell of gasoline but sweeter. Now everything is getting darker, the lights growing dim, and suddenly I find myself going to sleep.

There are no dreams that accompany my rest. No nightmares either. Least not that I can remember. When I wake back up I am in a small room, no longer on board the hovercraft. This room is pure white with bright lights hanging overhead. No doors or windows which make me feel confined and trapped, causing my chest to tighten. I go to lean up but I'm stopped by a large strap that lays over my lower chest. I only panic more at the sight of this. I reach at the strap, trying to tear it open with my hands when I suddenly notice my right hand. I can move it again, it no longer hurts.

Multiple tubes bury into my right arm. I have to wonder if this is to help heal the broken bones or else if it is a normal procedure. I have the thought to rip the tubes out since their presence under my skin is unnatural, but I know they would just get placed back in. But if my arm is completely fixed then I wonder what else.

I can't see where Pell hit me with the machete but I run my hands along my chest. There is a massive scar that lays from my mid-shoulder diagonally down past my collar bone which is no longer broken. I look at my fingers, remembering the missing nails I had gotten when I tried to claw my way into the cave, but they have been fixed. My nails are perfectly shaped and smooth, showing no signs of having spent time in the arena. I run my hand down across my stomach where Pell had dug the machete but it isn't the scar that fastens my heartbeat. Something is wrong, I know it is. I feel my sides and stomach and it doesn't feel like my own, like someone else. Something is wrong. I lean up to look but the straps keep me down and then I go full out crazy. Clawing at the straps, wiggling my body to try to get free but I feel an icy cold liquid pour into my veins from one of the tubes and suddenly everything goes black again.

I come to again and this time I see a tray sitting in front of me. A clear glass of water, a bowl of broth, and some red liquid that looks like fruit that has been mashed. I take my time eating this because I have the feeling that once I finish I will be knocked out again. This must be the break they take between the games and the final interviews. It is usually a few weeks so they can mold the victor back into a person again, someone that looks deserving of the title. It also gives my stylist, Tigris, time to make up my last bit of wardrobe. Caliper and Volumnia to prepare everything. I'm finishing the last of the red mush now and already feel the liquid pour back into my body. I lean back, having no choice in the matter, slowly drifting back asleep. This happens maybe eight or ten more times. Each time I take my time eating.

My eyes open again and I glance forward, expecting the usual tray of a small amount of food bu this time nothing. No tray and no straps. I hesitantly lean forward, expecting something or someone to come into the room and shove me back down, for the liquid to pour back into my body, but none of those happen. I lean straight up and slide myself so my legs gingerly touch the cold floor of the room. I pull off the sheets so that I can see my body and both happy and upset at the sight of it.

All the wounds and scars I had endured in the arena are gone. The holes on my leg are now just smooth skin, the gash in my shoulders shows no sign of injury. The skin throughout my body is flawless, soft, and perfect. Not even a scar is visible, not even redness of where I had suffered cuts and stabs. But when I glance into the reflective window that laid behind me – Out of my view on the bed – I see that is isn't the body I knew. I know the victors are almost always surgically altered when they win.

The girl who won last year, Johanna, made it known that she was not pleased with them because they had made her chest bigger and body curvier. There was another girl, Enobaria, who they filed her teeth into fangs when she won because she ripped a tribute's throat out with her teeth. I remember seeing reruns of her games and final interview. Though she doesn't express her emotions towards the alteration, you can tell that she is mad and upset when Ceaser brings up her fang-like teeth. I even open my mouth to make sure they did nothing to my teeth since I did bite Blaire. But luckily they have only been whitened.

But my body has been surgically altered. Usually, the male victors have slight changes done, a reshape of the eyes, change in neck size, made taller. But I have have had the full extent of what the Capitol can do to a male victor without making it overly noticeable. My green eyes have been made greener, to the point where it almost looks as if they are glowing. My nose has been reshaped as well, appearing thinner and more sculpted. My shoulders are much broader and my chest and biceps are larger than I remember. Then I see what startled me when I felt my stomach because they have changed my midsection so that is much more narrow and tightened. My torso looks like an upside down triangle and I hate it. I have a feeling the retouched my legs as well, maybe even other areas, but I don't bother looking. Already I feel disgusted and on the verge of yelling.

I glance around the room, seeing a white outfit has been placed at the foot of the bed. Baggy white pants with a tighter fit white shirt. I slip them on and then begin to make my way around the room, looking for the way out. I'm at the end when I hear the door slide open to my right, it looks like just a part of the wall. Maybe so if a victor were to rip out their tubes and break free from the bed they wouldn't know where to go.

I walk through the door and find myself in a long white hallway. All this white, the bright lights, and lack of windows and proper doors make my insides tighten and I want to escape immediately. I glance down the other way and find familiar faces. Tigris, Caliper, and Volumnia stand in a small room at the end of the hall. They smile and wait for me. For a moment I think this is a dream but decide to ignore the thought. I make my way down the hall, walking and watching the walls as if waiting for a door to open and a mutt to come running out but I reach the room without any surprises.

I stand in front of my team before Caliper extends his hand towards me. His palms open. I grab it and he gives me a firm shake.

"Congratulations," He says.

"You did it!" Volumnia shrieks in excitement as she grabs my head with both her hands, kissing me on each cheek. "That was one of the best finales I have seen! Such determination to win! Such a true victor!"

These words fall short to me though. Because all I can think of is how I beat that young girl to death. How I didn't even hesitate. But I know if I were to say anything that would not be considered "Victor like" then I would likely end up strapped back in the bed. So I force a grin.

Tigris takes my hand in both of her soft hands. She gives a nudge of her head, motioning me to come with her, and I listen. She guides me down halls until we reach an elevator and shoot up to the sixth floor of the Training Centre. The doors open to my prep team, all three of them bouncing around like buffoons as they squeal and clap. They surround me, congratulating me, hugging me, and kissing my cheeks. The force me out of the elevator and usher me to the dining room where a meal has been laid out for us though my plate has already been dished for me since my portions are apparently still being monitored. Glazed lamb chops with mashed potatoes and green beans await me. But the first thing I go for is the juice. I get a strange craving for the orange juice when I see it and end up downing two glasses of it before I even begin to eat my meal.

They discuss the events tonight well we eat but once we finish and my prep team ushers me to the bedroom to do their work the conversation turns to the games. I dread the thought of it when they bring it up but they don't talk about the events in the arena, rather what they were doing and what they thought of those events which make sitting through the conversation bearable. I do end up zoning them out though, they ask me a few questions but I don't answer. I just stare at myself in the mirror, my piercing green eyes looking back. My mind only thinking of how they changed me, how they made me a killer, changed my appearance, made me into this other person. And I have no say in it, nor can I refuse to not b happy about my victory or think back at the games negatively because that is not what a victor does and if I do such things I won't be punished but those close to me will. I feel trapped, unable to scream for help. That is exactly what I am, trapped.

Once the prep team is done I give them the best smile I can force, apologizing for my lack of answers and say that it is because of my excitement to return home. This seems to do the trick because they are back to hugging me and patting my back. They leave the room and Tigris soon enters, carrying what I figure will be my outfit for the events.

I expect her to get right to work but instead, she places a supportive hand on my back as she looks at me through the mirror.

"I was a stylist when Caliper and Brenda won," She says, referring to District 6's most recent two victors. "They had the same look," She says softly, "The look of watching their lives vanish in front of them."

This takes me by shock because I wasn't expecting someone from the Capitol to understand. But then again this is Tigris, the woman who sits so silently around others and watches them carefully, who at the dinner table seems to be outcasted by even the Capitol citizens.

"You might not be the same person you were, might not look the same or think the same. But you have the chance now to choose the person you become. Don't waste your life...Choose right." She rubs my back and for a moment we sit in silence.

I know exactly what she means by choosing right. Most the victors waste their life. They turn to drugs and alcohol, laying in the confines of their houses ad watching the days drift by. But some stay healthy, they live lives, they help out people in their district. They choose right. And by those simple words, from a woman who I considered so grotesque but is really one of the most beautiful in the Capitol, I am comforted. Because she is right. I could sit here being mad about how they altered my looks, how they changed me into a killer. Or I can cast that away and take this chance to become a better person.

I stand up as she pulls out the clothes. She helps me get dressed and then I am able to look in the mirror and I'm surprised because I am gold. My hair has been styled so that it lays tangled and wavy with flakes of gold intertwined. My skin has been dusted with a sheer gold powder that remains matte, a more radiant gold has been placed along my undereye and lid though, making my now glowing green eyes seem more radiant. I wear a black shirt. A black and gray turn-down cardigan drops down to just above my knees. But it looks as if the collar has grown golden roots because thin golden tubes entangle in one another and branch up to the base of my head, lowering down as it wraps around my jawline and into the opening of the cardigan. The look is finished off with a pair of black pants and black and gold shoes. Out of all the looks I had in the Capitol, this is by far my favorite.

After I am dressed I am guided into the lower level of the Training Centre. Tigris places me on a metal plate and tells me to wait till I rise. It seems to be the tradition of the games to have the whole team and victor raise up from under the stage. Already I can hear the roaring of the crowds above me along with Ceaser's voice. I take deep breaths. After surviving so long in the games, facing the crowd doesn't seem daunting at all. But having to lie about what I feel about the games and killing is what makes my insides knot up. But if I can win the Hunger Games, I can do this.

I feel the metal plate start rising upwards and I place on the biggest smile I can, the one Caliper taught me to do when I was first interviewed. The lights threaten to blind me but my eyes eventually adjust. I see the sea of colours in front of me, all the people clapping and cheering at the sight. I give a wave but then my smile immediately goes away because from the corner of my eyes I see him. Markos stands on the stage with a bouquet of flowers.


	35. Welcome to the party

Markos isn't dressed in his peacekeeper outfit. He hardly even looks like the same man, this is the Capitol version of him. The version that I have never seen before. His hair has been curled into a corkscrew shape and it holds gold flakes which I can't help but feel was intentional so we looked matching. His face seems more sculpted and narrow along with black and gold shimmers which line his eyes. He wears a suit that looks like white dripping clouds in the night sky.

For a moment I just watch him as he offers me the flowers as if I am back in the games and he is just another enemy. I question if him standing here is even real. I look at Ceaser then back to Markos, not knowing what to do but then I give in and grab him, pulling him into my arms. It takes everything to not cry but I bury my face between his neck and shoulder for good measure. Seeing a familiar face after over a month of being away from everyone, fighting for my life, it all floods in and I squeeze him tighter. Already I can hear the crowd going crazy.

"I missed you," I mumble.

"I knew you would win...You promised it," He says back.

That is right. On the morning of the Reaping, back in the hub. He was worried that I would get picked, back then it was just a joke but I told him if I did I would win and that way I could come see him in the Capitol.

Ceaser comes up to give a good-natured nudge to tell us we need to get on with the show. I expect Markos to join Ceaser and me on the stage but Ceaser says I'll get to see him again soon and send Markos backstage.

I am guided to the Victors Chair. A large, plush chair that sits in the middle of the stage where the victor of each year sits to watch the games, a shortened version. Ceaser is cracking a few jokes to the audience but I can hardly hear him. I still trying to get used to what I did to survive in the arena but now I will have to watch it all condensed into three hours, by myself with the entire nation watching my reactions. I remember victors from previous years, they were all so strong. Careers would usually laugh or clap, some would watch on with no emotions, others with hatred, others with their head high like they prided themselves on what they watched. But right now I don't want to see any of it because I know everyone is dead, eight of whom are dead because of me.

To condense a month of games into three hours is an accomplishment. Usually, they can't show everything in that short time so they tell a story involving the career. Victor being betrayed and seeking revenge, their story on outsmarting everyone. One year the story they told was a victor who fought for those she loved, that is the story I expect but am shocked and upset with the one they chose for me, in fact, it makes it so much harder to watch. Because the story they chose was how I played the tributes, how once I came into the arena I became this unstoppable beast seeking his next kill. Already I can hear some of the people saying the nickname I have become known for. Remus Kirkwood, the gladiator. But none of that is true, I wasn't fighting for the lust of it. I only fought when I needed to...At least I thought I did.

I watch the show. The first forty or so minutes is the Reapings and other pre-game events. But all I can think of is how they are dead. I see the boy from 9, he was 12, take the stage for the interviews and barely able to speak he was so scared, dead in the bloodbath. I see Dazzle who so confidently talks about how he will be the next victor, but I remember is mauled corpse floating in the red water. Vicuna, the girl from 8, gush about the Capitol and discuss clothes with Ceaser, she died in the feast. The two from 10 who, in the interviews, confirmed they were good friends and were not going to let the games dampen their friendship.

After the interviews, they show the detailed coverage of the games. How I went running into the male from 5 and swung my machete into his body, killing him. The crowd whistles and cheers at that part. I am also surprised to see the Pell, the girl from 10, stab the male from 9 so many times that I end up loosing count. Guess she wasn't as innocent as I thought. They show the careers chasing me down, me tricking them at the waterfall and returning to the beach. They edit my fight with Dazzle so that it doesn't look like I am struggling to survive but rather was in control of the fight the entire time, that couldn't be further from the truth. The moment with the snake mutt comes and when I turn to see it staring right at me, that gets a few screams from the crowd. But they are back to cheering when I lure the snake to the careers and rush in to steal the medicine I needed. Again it is edited afterward to look like I was hunting for tributes but in all reality, I was hunting for food.

I find Vicuna and see that my first night with her she waited for me to sleep before grabbing a knife, contemplating killing me but slowly places it away. It is weird to watch how right there I could have died and didn't even know it. They show the male from 7 and female from 5 being chased by flames, pushed towards Vicuna and me then they cut to the all out war of us four and the spiders, how I stabbed the female from 5 to death and continued to stab her even after the cannon fired. People begin to chant "Glad-i-a-tor" over and over at that scene. I force a smile and give a slight wave in response but in reality, I want to leave this seat. I continue to watch as Pell follows the careers and suddenly leaps out of the woods, killing the male from 4 and injuring Herminia. Amethyst chases Pell off but returns to Herminia only to leave her to die. Then it is the feast and there I am edited again to look ruthless, it even looks like – when I tossed Petro to the side to run – that I was attacking even Petro. But there is no way to edit me clawing at the cave to get to Petro in a negative ay and the audience begins to get teary eyed with me saving her, with her dragging me to a spot in the jungle, and then ultimately her dying in my arms. I squeeze the arms of the chair as I watch this to fight through it.

Then it is the finale and I look like "Remus, the gladiator." My face looks of anger and bloodlust as I fight Blaire, killing her in a gruesome way. The audience is cheering as Marius comes in and kills Amethyst then they are roaring as I trick Marius into drinking venom and strangle him to death. Knowing how Pell was as much of a killer as my sort of makes watching her death a little easier, but not by much. It is brutal and the Capitol loves it. How I break her jaw and then I'm clawing into the dirt to get to her and beat her to death.

The crowd is cheering and hollering my name when the anthem plays and we all have to rise for the president as he makes his way towards me. A little girl, who looks like a ghost due to being painted in white, trails behind him with a fluffy cushion holding a golden crown. He smiles at me but I don't bother smiling back, cause he is the man who made me go into the games. He lightly places the crown on my head and then there is cheering and bowing before the show ends.

I don't get a break though because I am being pulled off stage to go to a party for my victory. I dread going, to be around these people and having to celebrate what I did but when I step out of the vehicle to see Markos waiting, it makes it easier. I force smile after smile as Capitol officials, sponsors, and other upper-class citizens approach me. Mostly they ask to get a photo with me but some stop to talk which I mostly dread. They congratulate me on my win, say how they loved watching my "killer instincts," that I was a true victor, raving about how I killed the last tribute with my bare hands. An "accomplishment" that has only been done eleven times in the past as one man points out. Wow lucky me for being part of such an elite club.

Not all the conversations are bad though. There is one woman who works with President Snow that doesn't even talk about the games but rather tells joke after joke and interesting stories about the Capitol. I end up hunting her down twice throughout the night because she is one of the few people I don't mind being around at this party. Markos also introduces me to his best friend, a girl named Luxen. She asks me questions about the games, which are bearable. Them being more along the lines of "What is trying to survive the wilderness like?" and "do you get any special treatment in the Capitol before the games?" Which is a confusing question because to me it was all special treatment so I end up just saying we have our own cooks that make us food whenever we want and it seems to satisfy her.

After that Volumnious guides me to the sponsors that helped me in the games. A total of seven people altogether who chipped in money. We take a group photo and then I thank each one of them. I do sincerely mean my thanks because without them I wouldn't have won. I stop to thank a wealthy elderly couple who sponsored me the healing gel.

Nine times I try to find solitude somewhere for just a minute or two but every time I try someone sees me and drags me into a conversation or else takes photos with me. I end up going to the bathroom. That doesn't last long though cause Volumnious is knocking on the door but I am pleased when she says we should leave. I say goodbye to everyone and then say goodbye to Markos before being taken back to the Training Center. Back to my old quarters before the games began. I don't want to leave by room though because whenever I do I keep picturing Petro sitting at the dining table or else on the couch in the living room. But she is already back in District 6, likely in the ground already. So I just bury my face down on my pillow. I wait to cry but it never comes, instead, I feel numb, alone, and empty. Like I am the last person left in this entire city. Sleep never comes either.


	36. Empty

I hear Volumnia knocking on the door as she tells me that I need to prepare myself for another big day. I can hear the excitement in her voice, in her career as an escort she hasn't had a victor but now she does and will be one of the more popular residents in the Capitol. At least till next year.

I have to force myself to lean up. I don't bother going down to the dining room but instead, order food right to my room. Another feast. Orange juice, pancakes, sausages, buns, eggs, hashbrowns. I eat and eat and eat, trying to fill the emptiness that seems to have engulfed my body. But not even the food seems to work. I finish off every crumb of it from my plates and then have to order myself to get ready. Simple commands. "Go have a shower...Get dressed...Go downstairs." Like I have lost all control of my body and now a tiny little voice in my head tells me what to do.

I don't get far downstairs when my prep team is there.

"Get your tush back in that room, we have some prepping to do," Pumice smiles as she wraps her arm around me and guides my back upstairs.

I don't resist and follow her back into my room. It is a good feeling when they tell me not to talk since they are in a hurry and can't afford to mess up due to me talking or moving around. So I sit like a statue well they get to work on me and bring up their usual chatter. I do feel a bit more alive than I did yesterday. Today I will leave the Capitol and start my journey back home.

The prep team finished. My face looking to be more radiant which I didn't think was possible after the Capitol had fixed me up after the games. My lips have been toned down a few shades and a light brown around my eyes...My eyes still that neon green colour. I miss my old ones. The ones that had bits of brown in it and weren't so flared. It is even worse that Markos seemed to not even notice the physical changes that I had undergone. Maybe he favored them. He was from the Capitol.

Tigris walk in and dismisses the prep team. I like watching her move, it is unpredictable. How she steps on the tips of her feet so silently, her movements seeming so precise and soft. It was kind of like watching a dance.

She helps me dress into my outfit for the final interview and my ride home. A white and blue checkered dress shirt with a cream coloured jacket and pants, then brown shoes and a belt. Not as flashy as last night's outfit but I figure last night's events did require a very exaggerated outfit.

I go back downstairs were already the living room has been turned into a studio. Cameras and lights point towards two chairs that sit beside the windows.

"Congratulation Remus!" I hear a heart voice beside me and turn to see Ceaser smiling at me. He gives me a firm grab on the shoulder, "How is our victor feeling this morning?"

"Excited," I smile, mind as well start getting into character.

"Very good," He returns the smile.

I sit on one of the chairs and Ceaser sits in the other. For a moment they do last checks and then a person counts down and now I am being broadcast live to the entire nation. Ceaser welcomes the audience and starts off with a quick summary of the games and my wins, then a few jokes which I have to force a laugh at. He asks me a few questions that are simple to answer. How did I feel rising into the arena, what were my thoughts on some of the mutts – He tells a joke about the shark mutts and me being the true lovers – Then he starts going for the harder questions.

"When the earthquake hit that trapped Petro in the cave, how did you know she was still alive? She could have been dead yet you still fought so diligently to get to her." Ceaser asks.

For a moment I just grin awkwardly cause that's what I have been doing this entire interview but now I can't think of an answer. I force my lips to open and start speaking without giving any thought. "Well, she is a very...Was a very smart girl and a survivor. I knew that if I was still alive she was somehow still alive and I couldn't leave her."

"You did eventually revenge her death by killing her killer, Marius. Where you planning to use the spider venom the entire time?"

"No," I shake my head, "I thought I was going to die and just thought I would try using it."

"I'm sure you are just being modest," Ceaser chuckles, "A gladiator like yourself never has to worry about being killed."

I brush off this comment and force a laugh in response.

"And you did forget about Pell and honestly thought you won after Marius or was that a strategy as well to lure her out of the jungle?" Ceaser asks.

"No, I forgot about her," I answer.

"Well I am sure she will never forget about you now," Ceaser jokes.

I don't find it funny, so much so that I can't even force myself to smile. "Cause she's dead." I glare at Ceaser.

"Yes, and what a feat! I mean, c'mon. We have not seen a final death such as that in such a long time. I mean, how you broke her jaw and broke her skull open, that was such an impressive show you put on. I could not take my eyes off it."

Ceaser looks at me, expecting a response but I don't bother giving him one. She was a girl, 14, maybe 15, and I beat her to death. I hit her so much that her skull broke open. That was me, my choice. Something I will carry forever and I will not stoop down to faking that I enjoyed it.

"You know there was much discussion about altering your hand so that it was coated with flexible metal. As a symbol of how you won," Ceaser smiles.

I could scream and shout right here, right now. Say how much I hate the games, what it made me into, how I hate my body now. The people of the districts might listen, those whose tributes and kids I didn't kill, maybe. The Capitol would just discard me as a warrior who loves fighting so much that I would even argue on camera. If anything they would just adore me more. There is nothing I can do or say. My words and actions have no impact, least not the impact that I want them to make. Only the impact the Capitol wants to see. So I force the biggest smile I can. "That would be such an honour to have had that Ceaser."

The train lurches forward and I watch through the window as the Capitol slowly vanishes in the distance. Volumnia tells me I shouldn't get comfortable at home. That the Capitol people are already saying that I should be able to go back whenever I wish to see Markos. Maybe that would make the place bearable but for now, I want it burned to the ground.

We have an enormous supper and I eat more than usual but still, my body feels empty. It might just be a side effect of the surgery. I want to ask Caliper and Fascia if it is but Fascia has already dozed off after taking Morphling and Caliper would probably rather not have the subject brought up.

I don't bother watching the recap of the games which upsets Volumnia but she will get over it eventually. I go to my room, yank off all my clothes, and sit in the shower. The water splashes down on my naked body but it doesn't seem to wash the thoughts of the games off. The kills I made, deaths I saw, the monster creatures that attacked me. But I wish it does. I hope it does. So I stay in the shower all night, letting the water fail at clearing my thoughts.

* * *

Still one more chapter left! I'm thinking of doing another story about the rebellion with Markos and Remus since Markos would be a peacekeeper and Remus a rebel. Think it would be interesting :P


	37. I once knew them

I stand in the doorway. Out the window trees whiz by, seeming to mold together in a mush of greens and browns. I should feel excited, overjoyed, I guess I am, slightly, to see my family again. But the empty feeling still hovers over me like a storm that refuses to cease, constantly pouring over me and blocking out the sun.

Caliper walks into the foyer of the train. He readjusts the black blazer I wear.

"There will be cameras, but they don't stay too long," Caliper says.

I nod my head in response and he begins to talk about how I should act and not forget to smile. But I zone out, watching as the gates of District 6 open and the train enters home. I can see the people, the city that now only looks tiny compared to the Capitol, and finally the station. It is crowded with people, both cameramen, reporters, and citizens of District 6. "Does it get better?" I ask.

Caliper stops talking and he looks at me with hard eyes. I already know the answer before he speaks. "No," He says softly, "You just get used to it somehow."

I don't know how I can get used to this. Morphling isn't an option, I have seen so many I love waste away on that drug. I don't think work will occupy my mind enough to help. I don't even think I would be allowed to work. None of the victors have ever returned to work after winning, maybe some sort of unspoken rule when you win. How am I suppose to get used to the fact that I killed eight people? In the games it was more bearable, I was in survival mode and those deaths didn't affect me as much. But not that I am out, back to the real world, my normal life, the thoughts of those lives I took are haunting.

The doors open and already cameras flash, videos are taken, people scream and clap. I force the brightest smile I can as I see people whom I have never met screaming out my name and asking for handshakes, hugs, and more attention. I have never seen any of these people yet they all know me. The cameras take pictures as I shake a few people's hands but then some of the crowd thins and I see my family standing on the platform.

I throw myself into my mothers' arms. It feels like she has lost even more weight, which I didn't think was possible for her as she was so small to start with. I lighten my squeeze on her cause I am afraid I will break her tiny frame. Has she lost all this weight due to worry? Maybe she upped her doses of morphling to deal with the fact of another son being sent to the games.

Clauria hasn't lost weight but her eyes have bags. I know why instantly. Staying up all night and watching the games. They broadcast a 24-hour live feed usually during the entire games so you can watch whenever you want though it is only mandatory to watch during the day. When Toben was in the games I stayed up most of the nights watching him in the games. He usually was just hidden so the camera never really focused on him a lot but occasionally they would show him. Clauria must have done the same thing, stayed up all the nights watching me in the games. I wrap my arms around her and she instantly starts crying as she grips onto me. I feel like it would be too harsh to let her go so I lift her up and then turn to Michelle who looks unchanged. I give her a quick hug. For the first time since the games I feel a tinge of something. Happiness. Seeing my family again, hearing their voices, I never thought I would again. The thought that never again we will have to worry about food, the cold of winter, we won't struggle any more.

We pose for a few pictures and the reporters ask some questions. "How are you feeling?" "What's it like to have your son back?" "What are your plans now?" All of which we answer flawlessly like we have rehearsed all these questions before. There is cheering that follows and a car pulls up. We all pile inside as we are driven down the streets.

Mom doesn't let go of me. She keeps holding my hand, thigh, has her arm wrapped around my shoulders, anything to keep in contact with me. Clauria bounces as she sees the crowds of people cheering and clapping as we drive through the streets. She seems to have completely forgotten about me and now just adores the crowds. We pass the crowds and drive up the hill towards the victors village. Only a handful of cameras are here as they take pictures of my family and I stepping out of the vehicle, posing in front of the house. Once they are done they give us each handshake before they get into the vehicle and drive off. And, after a month of constant attention, I am finally left alone. No cameras, no Capitol, no adoring crowds.

I have never been up to the victors village before. The 12 houses in two rows, a small garden between them with a fountain. Large bushy trees lining the paved walkways. The houses themselves are only just a few years old. The victors houses need to be the most luxurious of all in the district, so when the wealthy of District 6 started making their houses of steel and glass that began to contend with the victors houses, the Capitol took action. Remade all 12 houses in less than a week so that they remained the best. I remember the mayor saying that it was more common than would have thought, especially in districts 1, 2, and 4.

Clauria yanks on my hand as she runs inside. The mansion is huge. Too many bedrooms to count, the kitchen has an actual oven, the showers have running water both cold and hot, the dining room reminds me of the one from the Capitol, One entire wall being made of glass and having views of District 6 below. Clauria starts the hunt for her bedroom but mom drops to her knees by the door. For a moment I think something happened and rush over. Tears stream down her cheeks but she wears a large smile.

"I can't believe this is real," She grins.

I help her to the table and we sit together, holding hands until she wants to go explore the entire place. Michelle joins us for a bit before she goes with Clauria to find a bedroom she can claim as her own.

That night mom makes a large supper. An entire roasted duck with potatoes, gravy, corn, salads, cakes, and hulick. I feel like I am back in the Capitol again, the massive feasts for every meal. We all dig in and were laughing, joking, talking, were happy. Even Michelle joins in and I have hope that this will be enough to help break her off of morphling, even get mom off of it. I eat three servings of the food before we retire into the living room to try out our new television. It doesn't last long because they are still on the topic of the Hunger Games so only pictures of my homecoming and clips of my time in the games show and mother quickly turns it off.

Michelle goes to bed first, Clauria follows, then mom is giving me a kiss goodnight and telling me not to stay up too late before she goes up to sleep. It is eerie being in such a big house. Back at our old one when everyone slept I could still hear them, I was only just a few feet away. But in this one it is massive and I am left in silence. I end up pulling out some of the fresh buns and eating a few of those as I walk outside.

It takes about ten or so minutes to reach the city from Victors Village. I board the train that runs through the entire town. This late only a few people are on board, either going home from work or else starting to deal morphling or hunt for it. I hear whispers and catch a few of the people staring in my direction. I guess I need to get used to this, the constant stares and whispers. Someone who survives the Hunger Games is so rare, and in a districts large and populated, seeing a victor is just as rare. I remember when we saw Tressa the day Clauria invited her for food, it was like seeing a ghost. I kept staring as she smiled and walked by. I give a quick smile to the people on the train before stepping off at the station.

The building in front of me is only two or three stories tall. The concrete and bricks have begun to crack and vines lurch up the sides of it. The double set doors groan as I push them open and slip inside. People came here sometimes to pay respects to those who died, there was a few in the district but this was the one we went to when Toben and dad died. The entire place is empty which makes me kind of glad since I don't want stares and whispers well I pay my respects. It's only been a day and already I am tired of it.

I make my way to the many tables that hold thousands of tiny candles. Some lay lit well most are without a flame. It is a long process, quiet as well. But for each candle, I light I remember the faces, the deaths, the life, their actions. The little boy from 9 who was so terrified, the two best friends from 10, Vicuna who was talented and smart, The two from District 5, Herminia who wanted to see her two brothers again, Dazzle who was so confident, Amethyst was too maybe a District 1 trait, Blaire who even I thought would win the games, Marius the boy that I saved just to kill, and then Petro, sweet and smart and had such a bright future. I don't remember seeing her parents anywhere when I got back. By the time I am done there are twenty-three candles lit, flicking in the dim building.

"That's a lot," A deep crackling voice says, "Family?"

An old man with dark skin walks out. He looks in his seventies, maybe eighties and holds a cane. His eyes are a milky colour. It takes me a moment to realize that he is blind. He has no idea who I am or why these candles are here.

"If they were family and friends I have a place you can stay, some hot food and clean water," he sits beside me, "It won't be forever but long enough for you to mourn peacefully."

"No," I say, "They're not family...They're for kids I once knew." I raise the match and gently light the twenty-fourth candle.


End file.
